


Seven Souls

by AmaliaIR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Ginsy, Horcruxes, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Triad - Freeform, blon, dramionarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-03-23 19:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13794231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaliaIR/pseuds/AmaliaIR
Summary: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny have something to find. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy have something to hide.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! So let me start by saying that the idea for this fic just sprang on me about two weeks ago and I started writing it only last week, so this will be a WIP with no forseeable end date. I want to be very clear about this: If you don't like WIP's where you don't know when or how long the updates will take, don't read this. I'll upload the chapters as I write them, so it'll be totally inconsistent. That being said, I have the whole story planned and I know where I want to go so I'll finish it eventually (it's going to be long!)
> 
> If at any point you want more story and I'm taking too long with the new chapter, hit me up on tumblr (amaliabones) and we can talk about it and it will inspire me to write faster! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story filled with mystery, slow burn (at least at first), and lots of gay romance. As one wise soul once said: "They're all gay. I don't even care. Try and stop me."

**Chapter One**

The beating of Ron's heart could be heard all around the living room, he was certain of it. Either that or the feeling of it against his chest was so overwhelming that it was the only thing he could think about.

It had been a long time since something like this has happened to him, and maybe that was the worst of it; he had gotten to used to a certain level of normalcy that feeling like this again was  _much_  more terrifying. And it meant so many things that Ron couldn't even begin to comprehend what would come next.

"Are you alright, Weasley?"

The voice was familiar, but Ron had to think hard to identify it. It wasn't Harry's or Hermione's, who were the first people Ron thought of when his eyes landed on that…that thing.

No, this was someone he had met more recently. After the war. After becoming an auror.

Auror. That was it! This was another auror. Perhaps Berkley? No, Berkley had stayed outside to guard the perimeter. Only one other auror had gone inside with him; the Head Auror Willsburg.

Ron tried his hardest to remove his eyes from the object in front of him, and when he finally did, everything came into focus again; the house they were in, the ugly furniture of the living room, the stench of a dead body, or two to be more precise, and then Willsburg. He was standing next to Ron, his dark eyes big with worry as he stared at him.

"I'm fine," Ron said shaking his head a bit too much to be convincing. He felt the cold sweat dripping down his face.

"So," Willsburg began in a grave voice that made Ron remember how real this all was. "It is what we thought, isn't it?"

Ron nodded and closed his eyes, thinking that if he were to see it again, he might be sick. Funny how the most dreadful thing in the room wasn't the two dead bodies on the carpet, but the mundane object between them.

"It's a horcrux."

.

Hermione's legs were burning as she climbed up the stairs as fast as she could, trying to reach the Auror's offices at the same time as Ron; she didn't want to leave him waiting.

She could have taken the elevator, but that always took forever with all the stops. Besides, her own office was only five floors below Ron's, she could easily climb up five flights of stairs without getting winded up, right?

When she got there, panting and clutching folders to her chest, she made a pledge to read one book less a week and work on exercising.

She knocked on the office out of residual politeness, but she was already through the other side before Ron could tell her to come in. He was sitting behind his desk, both hands on the armrests as he looked up at her with a pale-greenish face.

"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to him, dropping her folders on top of his desk and crouching down next to him, taking one of his hands in hers and looking worriedly into his face. "I'm so glad you called me first! Tell me everything."

Ron sighed and put his other hand over hers. "It was awful, Hermione. I can't even begin to tell you what I felt when...I mean it was…"

"I know, I can imagine, and I'm pretty terrified myself right now, but we need to think this through because there's no way…" She shook her head. She didn't even want to say it out loud. It was  _impossible_. "There's got to be an explanation."

Ron grimaced. "I don't see how this isn't related to  _him_."

Hermione got to her feet and walked around the desk to sit on the other side. "Tell me everything, Ron. I need to see the report, and the pictures. Are there any witnesses?"

Ron shook his head as he pushed open folder towards Hermione. "Everything's here. I don't even know what else to add."

Hermione bit her lip. Ron looked devastated, as if they had just told him someone in his family had died. She reached and took a memo paper and wrote an order for two strong teas to be delivered to Ron's office as soon as possible. She tapped the paper with her wand and it folded itself into an airplane and flew away. She began reading the report.

It was more gruesome than she had imagined. Two rotting bodies, both apparently having died at roughly the same time, but one having suffered the Avada while the other bled out through a horrid hole in the chest. Sitting on the carpet between them, a small music box, which after further consideration was confirmed to be a…

"How did you know it was definitely a horcrux?" she asked, looking closely at the picture of the tiny mahogany box.

Ron flinched at the word. "It was very obvious. I could feel it beating inside, it was the most alive thing in that room." He stopped and leaned forward, his blue eyes widening slightly in even deeper desperation. "And Hermione, it's even worse than before, because I had never felt such a strong presence from the other ones, but this...it was as if it could sense me and even wanted to speak to me but...couldn't."

Hermione started feeling sick.

"It… It can't be him, Ron."

Ron got to his feet, agitated. "And why not? He is the only reason we even know what  _horcruxes_  are." Ron looked like the word physically pained him. "He's the only wizard in history to have created so many. Who's to say he couldn't have made a few more?"

He was pacing up and down his office, staring blankly down at his feet.

Hermione stood up too. "We saw him die! It wasn't like the time his curse backfired on Harry and his body was destroyed but his soul remained! This time there was a body!"

"So? He might have found a way!" Ron looked at her then, his eyes wide with fear. "That's the thing, Hermione, we don't know. Magic shifts and changes, and maybe there are things we don't understand yet but will make sense later. Isn't that what happened when we were young?"

Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Yes, but we were children then. We understand a lot more now. Besides, it's been nine years since we saw him die, Ron. How come he didn't show any signs of still being alive before?"

"I have no idea. I know nothing about this makes sense, but it's the only explanation isn't it?" Ron sat back down in his chair and reached for a memo papers. "We need to tell Harry."

"Wait!" Hermione stopped Ron, her hand over his. "We can't tell Harry!"

Ron frowned. "Why not?"

Hermione felt a tightness in her chest just thinking about seeing the fear in Harry's eyes when hearing this information. "Do you realize what this will do to him? And besides, if this was truly Voldemort," Hermione stopped when she realized how long it'd been since she said that name. Ron flinched. "Don't you think Harry would have felt something?"

Ron shook his head and Hermione realized what he was about to say before he said it. She hadn't really thought about that.

"Harry's not a horcrux anymore. Any connection he had with the old horcruxes is gone."

"Don't say 'old horcruxes' as if you're certain this is a new one of his. We don't know that yet," Hermione said. There was a knock on the door that startled her, but Ron called out to come in before she could do anything.

The door flung open and two cups of tea floated into the office and landed on Ron's desk. She sat down again and took one of the cups in her hands as she looked at the pictures of the scene again. Ron was quiet.

"If there are two bodies, why is there only one horcrux? And why leave it behind?" She didn't look up and Ron didn't answer. There had to be something they were missing. She shuffled through the pictures. "Was there a book left behind? Or instructions of some kind?"

She looked up to see Ron shake his head. "The house looked nearly abandoned, only the empty furniture left behind."

Hermione made another effort to look at the disgustingly graphic photo of the man with the hole in his chest. "I think for now our safest bet is to assume that the horcrux belongs to one of these men."

"What? How is that our safest bet? If the horcrux was theirs, how come they're dead? And believe me, we checked." Ron shuddered before taking a sip from his tea.

Hermione shrugged weakly. "I'm not sure. But if one of them did it, it has to be this one." She pointed at the picture of the man who bled to death. "You need to kill with the Avada for the making of a horcrux."

Ron's face got somehow greener. "I still can't believe you know how to make a horcrux."

"It was a necessary sacrifice," she said with a half smile. She was personally in charge of making sure that all information about horcruxes was properly classified and secure, and while checking books for that information she learned a little more than she had wanted to.

"Anyway," she continued. "We'll have to go with that, even if we don't know how this person died afterwards. We can't just claim Voldemort's back without any substantial proof."

Ron looked at her, his blue eyes searching her face with resignation. "Fine. But we can't rule it out either, and we need to tell Harry."

Hermione nodded. She knew they'd have to tell him, and if she was him she wouldn't want to be excluded from something like this, but if she could spare him the pain even a little bit, she would. "We will. As soon as we can prove that this horcrux isn't his."

Ron sighed. "Too bad we can't do DNA testing on souls right?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Right. But there might be something we can do."

.

Harry couldn't believe the mess he was in. His eyes stung from lack of sleep, his throat was so sore he had barely spoken a word since yesterday, and he was pretty sure his hand was going to fall off.

Some idiot down in Interior had messed of the dates of the two new wizarding schools opening in the next few months and Harry was left to handle the mess. The amount of paperwork was indescribable, and that was nothing next to the number of meetings he'd been having and still needed to have.

It was his biggest project yet, and more importantly, it was the one he had cared about the most. Opening two new magical schools was something unheard of before, as Hogwarts had been the one and only school for witches and wizards in the country for millennia, but after the war the number of magical babies started to increase rapidly, and with a new government and fresh set of values, marrying Muggles was not only allowed but encouraged. According to a study conducted by the Magical Population departement, they were expecting an unprecedented increase in magical births.

And as much as Harry loved Hogwarts, as Head of the Depart of Magical Education, Harry couldn't ignore the fact that it was very inconvenient to have only one school, especially if it was so far away from the city. So the new schools will be in London and Cambridge, and they wouldn't work as boarding schools like Hogwarts.

Of course, mixing the dates has wreaked havoc in all the planning they'd been doing for months; from construction to registrations, from school curriculum to staff, even from book shopping to angry parents.

Thankfully, his day wouldn't end in such a terrible note because his last meeting was with the Junior Undersecretary of the Department of Magical Law, or better known to him as Hermione.

She walked into his office looking- for lack of a better word as Harry's brain wasn't functioning very well at the moment- like an inferi. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark bags under, her skin didn't have its usual healthy glow, and her posture almost made Harry want to admonish her the way she usually did to him.

"What a shit-storm, eh?" he said with a weak smile when she sat across from him.

"Mm?" Hermione was staring off into space, as if she hadn't even noticed Harry was there. Then she snapped back to reality, her eyes widening as they landed on him. "Oh, yes. Truly unbelievable."

Harry frowned. Even under the worst gubernamental screw ups Hermione was sharp and efficient, and usually too angry to be so overwhelmed.

"Are you feeling alright?" Harry asked her. "I know we've postponed this meeting twice already but if you want-"

"No," Hermione interrupted while shaking her head. "No, let's get this over with. So Kingsley tells me that there are rumors about suing the Ministry?"

Harry nodded and pushed some papers towards Hermione. "The mixup meant that some materials for the Cambridge school were taken downtown because that was supposed to be built first, and even though the blueprints didn't match the building site there, they tried to start construction anyway and some workers were hurt on what's technically government property. They're blaming it on us."

Hermione rolled her eyes so fast Harry was sure it hurt, and effectively she winced right after. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard all week. They are supposed to have strict codes of security, no matter where or what they're building with. And the head engineer must have realized the mistake before even a brick was put into place." Hermione rose from the chair, looking a bit maniac, her wild hair looming around her as if cackling with electricity. "They don't have a case and if they continue pursuing it, I'm going to  _destroy_  them."

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "Merlin Hermione, what's going on? One second you're completely out of it and the next you're ready to slaughter the Planning Department."

She slumped her shoulders, apparently understanding how far she had gone. "I just can't believe we have to deal with these idiotic problems."

"It comes with the job," Harry shrugged. "Bureaucratic mess is what you and I signed up for. Ron's the one who's got the exciting job."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said as she slumped back in the chair and closed her eyes. "I'm just so tired."

Harry smiled sympathetically. "I'd give you a massage if I wasn't so tired myself."

Hermione gave him a grateful look and then threw her head back to the headrest and relaxed with her eyes closed. Harry hated seeing Hermione so tired, and even though it had happened about a thousand times, he didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

For a moment he felt completely at peace, as neither of them moved or made any noise and simply basked in each other's comfortable company. The rise and fall of Hermione's chest had soothed Harry's nerves (and despite what he might say out loud he was glad she was ready to slit throats to solve his problems) and it was miraculous how with only a few minutes of rest, she was already looking better, the tension on her shoulders gone and the lines on her forehead diminishing to normal levels.

Hermione opened her eyes and straightened up suddenly, making Harry jump. He hadn't realized how much he had been staring.

"Well, back to work," she said and stood up. "Ginny's game is tomorrow. You're coming, right?"

Harry tried not to look as though he would much rather sleep in late on his only free day instead of attending a morning quidditch match, but he probably failed because Hermione's lips twitched.

"Fuck this, Harry. It wasn't you who screwed up, so leave early today, have a well-deserved sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow in the pitch." She smiled in that way she usually did when she was delighting herself in breaking the rules. Harry felt a familiar and warm appreciation for her.

"Will do. Thanks Hermione." Harry got to his feet too and walked around his desk to hug her. She smelled like strong coffee and that distinct combination of scents that Harry knew to be from the Ministry potion labs. "Have you been to the labs again?"

Hermione stiffened slightly in his arms. "Yes, I've been experimenting."

Harry laughed. "As if you don't have work enough already."

She chuckled as they broke apart and then she reached up and traced two fingers down Harry's cheek. "Are you planning in shaving any time soon?"

Harry shrugged. "Haven't really had time." He had been meaning to, though. He knew his stubble was getting quite long.

Hermione smiled. "Good. Don't." She walked away, closing the door behind her and leaving Harry with no option but to go back to work.

.

Ginny couldn't have asked for a more perfect match. The weather had been impeccable, their strategy worked like a charm, and all es friends and family had been there to watch.

Luna came running up to her, her impossibly long hair trailing behind her like the tail of a blonde (and recently pink) kite.

Neville was next, hugging Ginny so tightly she could hardly breathe.

"Thank you for coming," Ginny told them both. "I know you're really busy lately."

Luna smiled brilliantly. "I'm in town until noon, plenty of time to stop by."

"Luna, it's already noon," Neville said, looking slightly unnerved.

"Oh, is it?" She glanced straight up at the sun as Ginny gave Neville an amused look. "Well, I better go and try to get the next portkey. It was a good game Gin, not boring at all."

Ginny laughed. "Thank you." She hugged Luna again and kissed her cheek. "Have fun in Finland, love you!"

"I love you too!" Luna said chirpily as she hugged Neville as well. "You too Neville!"

Ginny and Neville waved goodbye to Luna as she ran out of the pitch.

"Sorry Gin, but I have to go too. Pomona is waiting for me to have lunch," Neville told her apologetically.

Ginny patted him on the shoulder. "I can't believe you call Professor Sprout 'Pomona'. " Ginny said. "But I'm really happy for you! Just call me the next time you can, alright?"

Neville nodded. "Will do. You were brilliant as always!"

Ginny smiled as Neville walked away, crossing paths with Harry, Hermione, and her family as they were arriving.

"Gotta run!" Neville waved at them before taking off.

George hugged Ginny first, lifting her off her feet and shaking her around like a puppet. "My little sister is making me rich! I put all my gallons on you destroying them and you lived up to it!"

Ginny hit him on the head. "Yes, I did it solely for your sake! Now put me down!"

He did, leaving Ginny free to receive hugs from all her brothers, even Charlie had managed to attend. Hermione and Harry followed.

"Oh dear, it was fantastic! We must celebrate tonight!" her mother said as she kissed Ginny twice on each cheek. "Aunt Tessie is coming to visit! We can have a celebration dinner with her!"

Ginny faked a smile. "Oh, great." She side-eyed her brothers, along with Harry and Hermione, who hid their mocking smiles.

"Too bad I have to go back." Charlie patted Ginny on the back rather hard. "Enjoy your celebration!"

"Ditto. Vicky's sick and Fleur needs me," Bill said with a tiny smile he couldn't get rid off.

"Try not looking so happy about next time," Ron whispered to him when their parents weren't listening.

When everyone had finished congratulating her and most of her family left with reminders to meet each other at the burrow later, Ginny turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

"If we're going to be seeing Aunt Tessie tonight, we need to have a little celebration of our own first."

Ginny didn't even bother to shower before they headed to the bar, she merely changed into more comfortable clothes and they were off.

"And your seeker wasn't messing around, I think the only person with a dirtier mouth in that team is you," Harry shook his head in amusement before taking another sip of his beer.

Ginny barked a loud laugh. "Who do you think taught her?"

The four of them had been coming to this bar ever since Harry, Ron, and Hermione started working at the Ministry because it was conveniently close, but they still went even on off days. Sometimes other people tagged along, like George or Luna or Neville. Seamus and Dean made an appearance every once in a while too.

But Ginny still enjoyed herself when it was just them, specially after it stopped being a double date and they could simply be themselves without any pressure. Before that, there was a time when Ginny thought their friendship wouldn't make it, with her and Harry broken up and Ron and Hermione trying not to fight every single minute. Ginny barely spoke to the three of them when she went on tour with the Harpies the first time, and when she came back Ron and Hermione were already separated and happier than she had seen them in forever.

"Alright, I know it's difficult, but enough about me." Ginny finished off her beer and placed the empty bottle on the table. "What about you?" She looked at Hermione and Ron. "You've been awfully quiet."

Hermione had definitely not slept in weeks, because she was yawning in between each sip of beer. Ron, on the other hand, looked tired but in a slightly anxious way, sometimes flinching with the loud noises that usually happened in a bar.

"Come to think of it," Ginny considered before they had a chance to answer. "You two were the first to arrive at the match, and I saw you deep in whispered conversation before anyone else got there." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

For the first time since they got there, Ron and Hermione burst out laughing, Ron even dropping his head on the table and clutching his beer bottle for dear life. Harry and Ginny looked at each other, half surprised and half amused.

"God Ginny, I'm too tired to be laughing like this," Hermione said in between laughs, tears in her eyes.

"Imagine if your younger selves could see your reaction right now," Harry commented as he gathered the empty bottles to go for more.

Ron composed himself enough to speak. "I would smack my younger self on the back of the head. Repeatedly."

Harry left to get the drinks and Ginny tried to get a serious answer out of Ron and Hermione. "Come on, spill it. You've been tired before, but you're both clearly worried about something."

Ginny didn't miss the quick look the two of them shared before Hermione answered. "There's just this case that we're both involved in, and it's definitely keeping us up at night."

Ron nodded in agreement but didn't say anything.

"Okay. Well, have you asked Harry about it? He might have some ideas, you know." Ginny could already sense what kind on answer she would get to this, because it wasn't like his brother to act to strange in front of the three people he trusted the most.

"Well," Hermione said uncomfortably. "Harry doesn't know yet. He's got a lot on his plate with the new schools and everything. We don't want to inconvenience him now."

The way hermione was looking at Ginny held a lot of meaning, and Ginny was sure as hell not going to argue with Hermione of all people. She wouldn't tell Harry.

"Alright, but I'll just say this; just because Harry chose a boring desk job, it doesn't mean that he doesn't want to be included, and actually actively  _likes_ exciting and difficult cases. Specially if you ask him."

Ron's and Hermione's expressions softened, and while Ron looked incredibly guilty, Hermione smiled.

"You're right. We'll tell him, don't worry."

When Harry came back, bringing a new round of beers, they changed the conversation to Harry's new schools.

"I wish I had twenty more teachers like Neville." Harry sighed. "He has been working so hard with Sprout to get his certification in time for the opening."

"The world will always need more Nevilles," Ron agreed. There was a loud ring and Ron fumbled in his pockets to pull out the mobile phone that the entire Auror department had gotten the year before, after almost a decade of Hermione insisting. Ron's face paled considerably when he looked at the screen.

He got to his feet and left the bar, not even bothering to explain or look back. Ginny noticed Hermione looked worried.

"If the Education department gets into any more trouble, we're going to need some of those phones too," Harry said casually.

"It's not about trouble, Harry." Hermione looked like she was trying not to seem distressed, but her eyes were flicking between Harry and the door. "I've been saying it for years, everyone should have one."

It wasn't even a minute when Ron came back, looking distinctly greenish. Ginny had seen that look before, and her stomach dropped with uncomfortable dread.

They were all looking at him, even Harry sensing that something must be terribly wrong, but Ron only had eyes for Hermione, his voice trembling slightly when he spoke.

"They found another."


	2. Two

**Chapter Two**

 

Hermione stared at Ron for what felt like an eternity. Weirdly, something inside her reminded her that she probably hadn't looked directly into Ron's eyes for so long since they broke up.

She shook it off.

"Do you have to go right now?" she asked him, her voice low and quiet.

Ron shook his head. "There's no immediate danger but…but…"

"Sit down Ron," Hermione said, mentally preparing herself for the outcome of the conversation they were about to have.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, looking from Ron to Hermione. "What's wrong?"

Hermione looked at him, finally. She saw his green eyes confused and worried and she knew that Harry shouldn't have to go through this again. And even worse, she knew that there was nothing she could do to protect him from it.

Ginny pulled out her wand and cast a muffliato, sharply sensing that they were going to need some privacy.

Ron was still looking dreadful, so Hermione covered his hand with hers before she started speaking.

"One week ago, Ron was called in with his team to investigate on an apparent murder." Harry and Ginny had no reaction to this, as a murder was not something unusual or something Ron hadn't worked in before.

Ron lifted his head then, looking at his sister and best mate. "We found a horcrux."

Ginny's eyes went as wide as plates, and her skin acquired the same greenish undertone as Ron's. But surprisingly for Hermione, Harry didn't seem shocked, he merely shook his head lightly.

"That's impossible."

Hermione grimaced. "It's true, Harry. That's why we're so tired; we've been working the case non-stop ever since."

Harry's mouth opened slightly but no sound came out.

"So?!" Ginny leaned forward, her hands flat on the table. "What have you found?"

"Not much, really," Ron answered with a shrug. "We're trying to determine whose it is."

"Harry," Hermione said softly, as he was still looking at Ron and Hermione like he couldn't process what they were saying. "We don't think… I mean  _I_ don't think it's him."

Harry closed his mouth and then his hand reached up slowly to touch his scar. Hermione felt a painful pang of familiarity at the gesture, one that she thought she would never have to experience again.

"Who is it, then?" Ginny insisted. "Who is out there making horcruxes that is  _not_  Voldemort?"

"I don't know," Hermione confessed, tearing her eyes away from Harry. "We've been working in the Ministry labs trying to identify the piece of soul within it."

"Can you do that?" Harry finally spoke. Hermione had an overwhelming urge to hug him.

But she had made no progress so far, and now that there was another horcrux around, it seemed as though her theory was starting to dissipate.

What if it really was Voldemort?

"Yes."

Hermione turned abruptly to Ron, who had answered Harry with total certainty.

"Hermione can do it. She's using Muggle testing technology to see if we can connect what's inside the horcrux to one of the bodies we found in the scene. It's pretty incredible." Ron turned his hand over so he could grab Hermione's, and he squeezed it hard and smiled at her.

Hermione felt her doubts melt away as an immense gratitude for Ron blossomed inside her.

"I think I just need more time," she agreed, nodding and trying to sound half as confident as Ron. "But souls are still a mysterious topic."

There was silence for a moment, the beers in the center of the table completely forgotten.

"Who are the bodies?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ginny and Harry had asked their questions exactly at the same time, and the silence resumed after once again.

Ginny stood up. "Answer him first, that's okay. I'm going to the loo."

Neither Ron, Harry, or Hermione said anything to Ginny as she walked away, but it was obvious they appreciated her efforts to let them have this part of the conversation alone. Ginny had always understood the dynamic of the three of them without any judgment, and Hermione loved her for it.

"I think you know why, Harry." Hermione tried to look sorry, but the truth was that she wasn't. She wouldn't regret sparing him even for a minute. "And I think you know that it was me, so you can leave Ron out of it."

Ron sighed. "I'm really sorry, mate. Hermione had a good point; you had too many problems already."

"Problems?!" Harry nearly shouted and Hermione hoped Ginny's spell could hold. "There are no amount of problems that I could have right now that come  _close_  to even the smallest possibility of Voldemort being back."

"He is  _not_  back!" Hermione would continue to say it as much as it took, because if even a whisper escaped about the return of Lord Voldemort, the whole country would go into chaos. "But this isn't what this conversation is about, Harry! I didn't tell you because I thought that you shouldn't have to know until it was necessary."

Harry looked angry, his mouth a thin line before he spoke. "And why tell me now?"

"Because… One horcrux is a coincidence. Two means we have to start taking some action."

Harry's face softened and he was back to worried. "Like what?"

"Well," Ron started, his voice serious and business-like. Hermione was still surprised sometimes when hearing him like that. "If we believe that it is You-Know-Who, we need to start the investigation with all known Death Eaters and past Death Eaters."

"But if it  _isn't_ him, then we need to find out who else knew or knows about horcruxes because not a lot of people are supposed to know." Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. She couldn't believe this was happening.

Harry nodded, suddenly looking a lot more like his sixteen year old self. But with a nice beard. "Either way, Death Eaters are key."

Ginny arrived then, her long hair now in a braid. "I hope you had enough time to figure out your drama, because I'm not going back in there. I just peed like five times."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks Gin."

"I think you and I should visit Azkaban while Hermione continues to work on finding the owner," Harry told Ron. "And we definitely need to go and see this new horcrux, it might give some more clues."

"Oh, we're already planning? Good. I don't think I'll be very useful with the Muggle technology testing stuff, so I'll go to Azkaban too."

Ron cocked his head to the side and looked at Ginny as if she had lost her mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could as much as utter a word, Ginny had slammed her hand on the table.

"No! Don't you even  _dare_  try to keep me out of this! I am just as qualified as Harry or Hermione and the only other person who has some knowledge about horcruxes!"

There was an awkward silence in which the two siblings just stared at each other. Ron caved first, looking at Harry and Hermione as if seeking their help. Hermione shrugged one shoulder before looking away. There was no argument against Ginny helping them out, they were no longer children.

"Don't look at me mate," Harry said, his voice slightly amused.

"I was possessed by a horcrux, Ron. I carried it around in my bag for a year." Ron looked like Ginny's words physically hurt him. "Do you think I want that to happen to anyone? If I can do something to stop it, I damn-well will and I don't need your permission to do it."

Ron should have known his battle was futile the minute Ginny had looked at him as if he was an opposing Quidditch team member.

"Alright, alright, no need to make me feel so bloody guilty!" Ron exhaled loudly and then grabbed Ginny's hand. "I still need to discuss this with Kingsley and Willsburg. Willsburg will not be happy that I'm trying to bring non-aurors into the investigation."

"Who cares, just send The Boy Who Lived in to talk to him and he'll agree within a minute," Ginny said with a cheeky smile.

Harry sent her a death glare. "Thanks."

Slowly but surely, they all started drinking their beers in relative silence, as they had already paid for them.

"Well," Hermione said when her bottle was reasonably empty. "Let's go see a horcrux."

.

It turned out that the new horcrux was a very curious one, because it was a  _pen._

"It's… Beautiful," Hermione breathed out as they all stood around the object.

Harry and Ron looked at her as if she was crazy and she merely shrugged. Harry could perhaps understand the appeal if they didn't know what it was; the pen was made out of ivory, carved with intricately detailed lines which all led to the top of the cap, where a single jade sat, looking like a beautiful eye.

But it was still a horcrux.

"Where was it found?" Ron asked Willsburg, who stood to the side in the evidence room, looking distinctly unpleasant.

Willsburg's eyes surveyed over Harry, Ginny, and Hermione before settling on Ron.

"Knockturn Alley," he grunted. "A patrolling Auror saw it on the ground and thought it looked too expensive to belong there, so he brought it back."

Ron nodded. "I'm guessing there were no witnesses, no suspects, and no strange behaviors."

Willsburg shook his head. "Borgin's son said it looked slightly familiar, but they've bought and sold so many things that it'd be impossible to trace it to anyone."

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the pen. It looked like it was breathing, but as Ron had told him on the way over here, this horcrux like the first one also seemed to be...full. As if the piece of soul inside it was very strong.

"Borgin and Burke's," Ginny said while her eyes too were glued to the pen. "That also leads us to Death Eaters. We need to go to Azkaban as soon as possible."

After a calculated silence, there was a loud bark of laughter that made the four of them turn around. Willsburg was looking at Ginny with a  _very_  amused smile. "Aren't you the captain of the Holyhead Harpies?" he asked her. "What would you be doing in Azkaban, girl?"

Harry could almost feel the angry heat radiating off Ginny then but before she could launch herself on Willsburg, Ron stepped forward.

"I need a word, Willsburg." Ron looked back at Harry, Ginny, and Hermione. "I think it's best if you wait outside."

Harry and Hermione had the same idea and placed their hands in Ginny's shoulders as the three of them walked out of the room. Ginny gave Willsburg a dirty look before closing the door.

"Ugh, I hope we don't have to work alongside  _him,_ " she said with a shudder.

Harry didn't want to say it, but he was pretty certain they would.

"Well, this can take a while. I think I'll go down to the labs." Hermione rummaged inside her purse before pulling out two mobile phones and handing one to each Harry and Ginny. "These are my work phones, I'll let everybody on my list know that I'm only using this one," she explained before pulling out yet  _another_ phone from the pocket of her robes. "So these will be yours know. You have my number, Ron's, and each other's, as well as a few others you can ignore. Please use them."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other with an all too familiar knowing look before nodding.

"Why do you need  _two_  phones for work?" Harry asked Hermione as she kissed Ginny on the cheek goodbye.

"I work for the government. Everyone is trying to sue us," she answered with a smile and reached up to kiss Harry's cheek. "Call me later, okay?"

Harry nodded and waved as Hermione took off rapidly in the other direction.

"Coffee?" Ginny asked.

The Ministry cafeteria had the worst coffee Harry had tried, but they didn't want to go too far in case Ron needed them.

"I'm glad I didn't shower if we're going to Azkaban," Ginny said after tasting her cappuccino and pulling on a face. "Feels right to go there all dirty."

Harry chuckled. "It also saves you from Aunt Tessie dinner tonight," Harry reminded her. "Though, it's hardly more pleasant."

"It is if it helps us solve whatever this is." Ginny shrugged and then her face softened as she looked directly into Harry's eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Harry had been expecting somebody to ask him this ever since the word 'horcrux' was uttered. "I'm as good as you could expect considering there's a small chance that Voldemort is back."

"I don't think he is, you know. That pen we just saw, it felt… Different. Not like him." Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes drifting off into space.

"Yeah, I thought so as well," Harry said and took his first sip of coffee.

There was silence for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable as it once was whenever he and Ginny were alone after they broke up. Still, Harry realized that they'd both been so busy that he hardly knew anything about Ginny these days.

"How are you?" he asked her. "You know, aside from this whole thing."

Ginny smiled faintly. "Good. Working a lot with the team. Preparing for the cup next year."

"How are the girls? Any new drama?" Harry smiled cheekily, remembering how much Ginny complained about the problems that her teammates brought to the pitch sometimes.

She rolled her eyes. "Only every single day. We're still working on leaving personal issues at home. I only allow them to vent if they can channel their anger into the game."

Ginny smirked in a way that made Harry feel like they had never broken up.

"Seeing anyone?"

His question made Ginny raise her eyebrows, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. They both knew that Harry was aware that Ginny wasn't officially dating anyone, so maybe that was why Ginny was surprised, but Harry wanted her to know that he was interested in her life, even the romantic parts of it. Specially after Ginny had told him that she might actually not like men as much as she had thought.

"Interesting question, Harry Potter." She smiled." But the answer isn't as interesting. There have been… Encounters." Harry noticed the red tinge of her cheeks. "But not really dating."

"There is never time," Harry supplied for her because he knew she was thinking it. Ginny nodded and Harry smiled. "It's the same for me."

Like Ginny, Harry had had 'encounters' here and there after breaking up with her, but once he became the Head of the Education Department, dating life had pretty much evaporated.

Unlike Ginny, though, Harry hadn't shared that he also might not be as straight as previously considered. He felt slightly guilty for it, but he also didn't think he was quite ready to have it become public, and he hadn't told anyone, not even Ron and Hermione.

"But you know, perhaps we don't need to have extra time just for dating," Harry said, trying to keep his tone conversational. "We just have to incorporate it into what's already in our lives."

Harry immediately regretted saying that, because Ginny looked at him curiously, almost as if she could read his true meaning perfectly well, and that hadn't been his intention. For a while now Harry had thought that Ginny and Luna would be great together; he knew how much they cared for each other and even though they'd been friends forever he could see a spark there. Of course, he wasn't sure that Luna was into girls but… He was pretty sure.

But he didn't know if he should tell Ginny this, perhaps it was entirely too inappropriate coming from an ex. Besides, Luna was always traveling and it could be difficult to make it work. Nevertheless, he thought he'd try to subtly let Ginny know that she shouldn't miss what's right in front of her face.

Only Harry wasn't very good at subtlety.

"I agree, Harry. Sometimes what's already in our lives is exactly what we need." Ginny gave him one last meaningful look before sipping more coffee and almost spitting it out. "Seriously, we should tell Hermione to make these losers buy a Muggle espresso machine."

"Hermione doesn't actually control the entire Ministry," Harry reminded her, even though he too wished he could get a decent cup without leaving work.

"Doesn't she?" Ginny laughed.

"There you are!"

Harry and Ginny turned their heads to look at Ron, who had entered the cafeteria looking frustrated.

"What happened?" Ginny asked and went up to Ron, Harry behind her.

"Kingsley's with him now, but for the moment we can start getting ready to go to Azkaban." Ron ran a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. "Though all we really need is a quill and parchment for testimonies.

"All  _I_ need is my wand," Ginny said darkly as she pulled it out and started heading for the exit.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Is this a crazy?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head and patted him on the shoulder. "Only way we know how. "

.

Ginny wasn't even out the door but she could feel adrenaline pumping inside her like she was about to start a match. She could identify some irksome fear at the pit of her stomach, after all she had never been to Azkaban and the stories were quite terrifying, but the urge to curse some Death Eaters was stronger.

"Shit, Hermione has herself listed as a contact like four times," Harry said as he fumbled with the phone in his hands. Ron helped him and finally he was able to call Hermione.

"Hi," he said into the speaker, his voice soft and mellow as if they weren't about to go to one of the darkest places in Wizarding Britain, but Ginny knew he didn't want Hermione to worry. "We're on our way to Azkaban."

They walked towards the apparition spot, Harry nodding along to whatever Hermione was telling him. "Ron, she's asking if you've got the list of alive Death Eaters currently in Azkaban."

"Yeah, tell her I've owled her a copy."

"Hurry up!" Ginny called out to them as she stepped on the spot.

Harry and Ron did too, but Harry was still on the phone, listening to Hermione. "I have to hang up, Hermio- No, I can't apparate with this in my hand. Yes. Sure. Alright, bye. You too."

Ginny frowned. "Since when is Hermione so touchy feely?" she asked when Harry hung up.

"What?"

"She just said 'love you' didn't she?" Ginny watched closely for Harry's reaction, but he merely shrugged and put a hand on Ron's shoulder .

"Oh. No, she said 'take care'." He looked up at Ron. "You'll apparate us, right?"

Ron nodded and offered his arm to Ginny.

Ginny thought she saw Harry's cheeks get a bit red, but it was hard to tell from the beard. She wondered if this would confirm what she had been thinking about just before Ron arrived, when Harry babbled about what's 'already in your life'. She just hoped that Harry would realize it sooner rather than later.

Before she could think too much about it, however, Ron disapparated them.

Azkaban was exactly what she expected and then so much more. It was terribly dark, cold, and eerie. She could feel the presence of the dementors somewhere around, and she couldn't imagine what it used to be like before the new Ministry administration removed the majority of them and only left a couple of dementors just in case. They took new security measures that didn't rely so heavily on the whims of unpredictable and dangerous beings, and while Ginny thought it was the right call, she was also unsure of how much more efficient these security measures could be.

Ron showed his Auror badge to the many guards as they walked deeper and deeper into the enormous building, the already low amount of light and warmth diminishing with every door they walked through. None of them spoke until Ron stopped just outside a heavy-looking metal door with runes engraved in the middle.

"Most of the Death Eaters are in this section. At least the ones who were charged with murder, torture or both." He pulled out a parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harry. Ginny leaned in to read it too. "We've got Goyle Senior, Alecto, Selwyn, Nott Senior, Mulciber Junior and...Dolohov." Ron glanced quickly at Harry after calling out the names in the list. Ginny didn't want to be too obvious and look too, but she felt Harry tense slightly besides her.

"All the others…" Harry said, looking up at Ron. It sounded like a question he already knew the answer too, and so did Ginny.

Ron took a deep breath. "Dead by their own hand or too insane to be of any help."

"Even Crabbe Senior?" Ginny asked. She knew they had found him alive and thought he'd be in with the worst of them.

To her surprise, it was Harry who answered. "He's in a ward for lower offences." Ginny raised her eyebrows. Lower offences? To her knowledge he'd been just as  _offensive_  as the others. Upon seeing this look on her face, Harry continued. "You don't remember? During the battle when he found out Crabbe died, he surrendered immediately. He gave up valuable information so they cut him a deal. We could still go and talk to him, though." Harry looked up at Ron for this last part, and Ron nodded.

"Yeah, I just thought we'd get the worst out of the way first. Plus, they have all been administered with Veritaserum before we got here and we cannot do that with lower levels unless completely necessary." He shrugged uncomfortably before turning around and looking at the door. "I wish Hermione was here. Runes magic is always so creepy."

With his wand, Ron tapped some of the engraved symbols while murmuring something incomprehensible to Ginny, who prepared herself to see some truly disgusting humans in just a few seconds.

The door glowed in white light and emitted a high-pitched sound that went higher and higher until she couldn't hear it anymore, but she could feel it in her body and several shivers ran down her spine. The door opened slowly, revealing nothing as it was entirely too dark inside, but Ron walked forward and so did Harry, so she followed. Ron lit his wand.

As soon as she went through the threshold, a freezing-cold air washed over her, and she felt her hair snap out of her braid and fall heavily on her shoulders.

"Shit, what the hell?" she cursed as she tried to gather all of her suddenly tangled hair with two hands.

Harry and Ron looked back at her and Ron laughed. "All enchantments and concealments are eliminated once you walk through."

As she hadn't showered, she had used a spell to make her hair manageable and then charmed it to remain on a braid. So much for that.

"Don't worry, this way you'll scare the Death Eaters into talking," Ron said and then walked away quickly, rightfully forseeing the kick that Ginny tried to aim his way. Harry chuckled.

When they arrived at the first cell, the silence was absolute. If she hadn't known for a fact that there were people around her, she would have thought not even a ghost could exist in there. She, Harry and Ron stopped in front of the metal bars and Ginny finally heard some movement from somewhere near, but the darkness was too much. She and Harry lit up their wands too and at the prospect of finally seeing a face she was going to recognize staring back at her, Ginny realized how scared she actually felt. Her heart was pounding and even though she was freezing a drop of sweat traveled down her neck. She reached out and her hand hovered over Harry's arm, ready to hold onto him in case of…

Of nothing, she told herself. Nothing could really happen to them there and she was highly aware of that, so perhaps she wasn't so worried about her  _physical_  well-being exactly.

The three of them raised their wands silently and pointed at the inside of the cell, and Ginny saw with trepidation as a figure flinched before looking up at them.

Ginny gasped in surprise when something touched her arm and for a split second she wondered if she had reached out for Harry without noticing, but then she felt a large hand wrap around her wrist. Harry's grip was cold and frightening, and Ginny looked at him. His eyes were fixed straight into the cell, his jaw tight and his wand hand wavering slightly.

Ginny lowered her own wand and used that hand to pat Harry's, which was still unmoving around Ginny's wrist. She looked back into the cell and saw the revolting grin of Antonin Dolohov.

.

Ron gulped and took a small step forward, knowing he ought to take the lead. "Dolohov. This is Auror Ronald Weasley, please step closer and show your hands."

The large man continued to smile, but he didn't move. He was wrapped in several layers of dark and dusty fabric, covering his entire sitting body. He looked as though he was been in that same position for days, if not longer, and it occurred to Ron that it would be possible that he couldn't move. These prisoners in particular got absolutely no time out of their cells, as well as no sunlight and barely anything more than food and a shower sometimes.

Hermione had called this treatment 'despicably inhumane' and even though Ron could hardly think of someone who deserved it more than the man who murdered Remus Lupin, he had to agree. What they could see of Dolohov was dirty and grey, the eye sockets so deep Ron thought it had to hurt, and his dry lips seemed to have cracked with the effort of smiling, a little bit of red blood coloring the corner of his mouth.

Ron had to resist the urge to gag.

"We have some questions and you are required by law to collaborate in these matters. Can you step closer?" Ron tried really hard to sound confident and prepared, just as he had been taught, because someone like Dolohov could detect weakness a mile away.

It was already off to a bad start when the man had displayed his horrid smile.

When Dolohov made no attempt to move, Ron cleared his throat. "Right. We need you to tell us who else is involved in this plan that brought Voldemort back to life."

In his peripheral vision, he could see Ginny turning to look at him, and he could just picture her eyes large and shocked. Harry, however, had remained perfectly still and Ron almost sighed in relief at that. It would have seem too suspicious that the two of them looked at Ron as if he was insane, and Ron hadn't realized that danger until the words were out of his mouth. They had been in such a rush to get there, that Ron had almost forgotten that Harry and Ginny weren't Aurors and he hadn't filled them in his plan.

Thank Merlin Harry had at least completed the first course of basic Auror training before defecting.

The words he had just left a dreadful taste in his mouth, but apparently it had been worth it because something started changing in Dolohov's face. His smile was gone and his eyes went wide with something Ron couldn't identify. Hope? Fear? Maybe both?

"The Dark Lord," he rasped with a voice that didn't sound like it should belong to any living thing. "Lives?"

Ron could already tell the outcome of this conversation, but he had been surprised many times before and it was his duty to do his job right. So he braced himself to say even more words that he thought he'd never would.

"Yes. Voldemort lives."

The time they spent inside the high-security ward was simultaneously too long and shorter than what Ron expected. They only had one more cell left, but Ron was as exhausted as if he had gone on an all-night stakeout, and not all the interrogations had been as long as the one with Dolohov, though they had all been dead ends. None of them seemed to have any idea as to how or why was it possible that Voldemort had came back. When asked about horcruxes, only Dolohov seemed to know what they were, and merely regretted never making one when he had the chance.

Goyle Senior thought that Voldemort's return meant he would be free soon and was so delighted that he was unable to talk about anything else. Mulciber got aggressive and demanded details of Voldemort's whereabouts, and Harry had to magically tie his hands to the bars while Ron attempted to speak to him. Selwyn's answers were incoherent and out of place, so Ron had no choice but to make note to have him transferred to a psych ward. Alecto Carrow just laughed and insulted them the entire time.

Nott Senior was the only one left, but Ron was already disappointed. He had hoped that coming here would give them a lot more insight into what was happening out there, but he was even more confused now than before. Is not like he expected one of them to confess and explain how they hid one of Voldemort's horcruxes or something, but if they had no idea, then who would?

"Theodore Nott," Ron called when they were in front of his cell. The man was lying on the floor, his back to them and apparently asleep. "This is Auror Ronald Weasley and we have some questions for you."

Nott shifted, and then he slowly started sitting up. He looked over his shoulder at them and winced at the light from their wands, but he still moved to face them. He remained on the floor, covered in black rags like Dolohov, and looked up at Ron as if Ron was wasting his time by being there.

"Nott, we know you're a part of this, so just confess," Ron announced loud and clear, feeling more comfortable in this role now than when he began.

Nott frowned, a deep crease forming in his wrinkled forehead. Ron barely remembered what the Theodore Nott that had studied with them looked like, but he didn't think he and his father could have much resemblance now. Nott Senior's hair was all white, and his dark eyes were so small that Ron had trouble looking into them. He was frail and very thin, and despite being only around sixty, the man looked no less than eighty years old.

He coughed, dry and rather heavily for someone who seemed like they could break in half at any moment, and then he breathed in. "A part of what?" he asked in a whisper.

Ron stepped forward so he could better catch his reaction. "Voldemort's return."

Nott's face went from sickly grey to dead white. The man's face contorted into a horrible picture of fright, and he began shaking his head in short, quick movements. Ron's heart was hammering inside his chest.

"That's...impossible," Nott managed, stronger this time.

"Why?" Ron asked, his voice echoing in the cell. He felt Harry and Ginny step closer to the cell as well, eager to hear the answer.

"Because…" Nott trailed off and closed his eyes tightly, his pale hands coming up to rub his face. Ron thought that he might be trying to fight the effects of the Veritaserum. "All of the Dark Lord's horcruxes were destroyed."

Surprised, Ron forgot his role for a moment and turned to look at Harry and Ginny, who seemed just as shocked as he was.

Harry looked back at Nott. "Are you sure? How many horcruxes did he have?"

"Six," Nott answered without hesitation this time, though his hands continued to cover his eyes. "He divided his soul in seven."

Harry looked at Ron meaningfully. Nott Senior didn't know about Harry being a horcrux, logically. But he knew a lot more than the other Death Eaters.

"What's he doing?" Ginny asked softly.

When Harry and Ron turned back, Nott Senior was rocking back and forth, his hands still glued to his eyes as he shook like a toddler having a meltdown. He started saying something under his breath, but Ron couldn't catch what it was. He, Ginny, and Harry leaned into the bars as close as they could, turning their head sideways to have their ears closer to the man.

Finally Ron understood the repetitive mumbling, and as he did, icy dread flooded his insides.

"He can't be that powerful. He can't be that powerful. He can't be that powerful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!
> 
> I'm really excited for you guys to read this and tell me what you think! Sadly, we still have some way to go before out favourite slytherins all make an appearance but we're getting there!
> 
> This work isn't beta-ed so please forgive any mistakes.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at amaliabones! I'm always eager to talk about harry potter in any way so come say hello!


	3. Three

**Chapter Three**

 

When they arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place, Hermione was already waiting for them, drinking tea in the kitchen and yawning as she read the many papers spread out on the table.

"Oh I'm so glad you made tea," Ron said entering the kitchen and making Hermione jump slightly. "I'm dying for a cup."

"Shower," Ginny announced before she turned around, jogging up the stairs.

Harry smiled at Hermione who was looking at him with sympathetic and curious eyes, and then he plopped himself down next to her. "Have you been here long?"

She shook her head. "Half an hour tops. How was it?" She looked at Ron too, who had his hands wrapped around a mug as if it was terribly cold.

"Awful," Ron answered. "I hate going there."

Harry agreed, if he never set foot in Azkaban again he would count himself the luckiest man alive. Unfortunately he knew that wouldn't be the case.

"It was all a big waste of time with the exception of Nott Senior." Harry took Hermione's mug from her and took a sip from her tea.

"Really?" she asked excitedly. "What did he say?"

Ron filled Hermione in on all the details of the interrogations with minimal additions from Harry. By the time they were done, Ginny had returned, freshly showered and wearing a t-shirt and shorts that Harry didn't remember seeing before.

"Where did you get those?" he asked her.

"I guess I never took back all of my stuff. They were in the bottom drawer of your closet." Ginny shrugged and sat down on Hermione's other side. "So, what's the plan?"

They all looked at each other.

"I want to visit Theodore Nott. Junior. I think he might have some answers," Ron said as he ran hand through his hair. It was getting quite long.

"Maybe." Ginny served herself some tea and looked thoughtful. "I never knew his father was so close to Voldemort. Why tell  _him_  about the horcruxes and not the others?"

That was a good question, and one that Harry had been asking himself ever since he heard Nott's words. As far as he knew, Voldemort wasn't in the business of telling anyone his secrets, not even to his closest followers. And Harry was certain that Nott wasn't closer to Voldemort than Bellatrix or Lucius Malfoy, and even Dumbledore had told Harry that he was sure none of them knew about the horcruxes.

Harry felt suddenly nauseated. It had been so long since he had given Voldemort this much thought, and the feeling of having to do this all over again was completely sickening.

As if reading his mind, Hermione spoke. "It really doesn't sound like Voldemort to share something so important."

"Perhaps…" Harry trailed off as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "Is it possible that when he realized we knew about the horcruxes he decided to tell one of his followers, just in case?"

"Why, though?" Ron asked and served himself more tea. "It would have made sense if there was another horcrux to keep safe, but Nott said there were only six. And he couldn't lie."

They were all quiet then, too tired and confused to give any answers.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I made almost no progress today. All the research I've done on souls shows that everything we know is highly theoretical, so we might not have another choice but to…open the horcrux and deal with the soul itself. But that means we might have to kill it, or it'll try to possess us, or something else entirely. We don't know."

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all shuddered.

"Who's  _we_?" Harry asked. "Do you think we all need to be there?"

Hermione most likely heard the apprehension in his voice, because she smiled. "No. We is me and Padma. I started working with her since she's an Unspeakable and has some knowledge about these kind of things."

"I think you should do it, then." Ron got unexpectedly to his feet. "If opening it is the only way to know whose soul it is, we need to get it over with."

Hermione nodded. "Alright. I'll tell Padma and we'll do it tomorrow."

Ron looked at Harry and Ginny then. "And we'll go to Nott Mannor first thing in the morning. Can we crash here tonight, Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. It was always nice seeing Ron assume the leadership position, but sometimes his friend forgot he didn't need to be so formal. "How can I say no to an Auror?"

Ron's lips jerked upwards. "Shut up."

As soon as they left the kitchen, Ginny threw herself face-down on the nearest sofa.

"There are about five empty bedrooms upstairs," Hermione told her.

"Don't care," Ginny uttered, her voice muffled by the cushion. "Too tired."

Ron took Regulus' old bedroom while Hermione walked into Harry's even before he did. It wasn't strange to Harry, though, he had shared his room and even bed with Hermione multiple times in the past, mostly after a night of drinking.

But when he really thought about it, he didn't understand why someone as independent as Hermione would even want to share a bed with him when she didn't have to.

"Why do you prefer sleeping here instead of having your own room?" Harry asked and immediately regretted it when he saw the confusion in her eyes. "Not that you can't or anything, but you just don't seem like the type and you know you can have any room that you like here. Even to move in it if you wanted to."

Harry didn't know how he ended up offering Hermione the possibility to move into his house, but there he was. He had thought about asking Ron or Hermione to move in with him when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place because the place was too big, but then they'd gotten their own places and the opportunity passed.

She cocked her head to she side in confusion, but she smiled. "Well, the first few times it was a bit scary, to tell you the truth. The rooms are so big and so far apart here that I felt more safe staying with you. Now is mostly out of habit." She walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "And I know you'd take me in no questions asked if I wanted to, but I appreciate the offer. Maybe I'll take you up on it one day because I'm not too happy with my place."

Harry smiled. The idea of having Hermione living with him didn't sound bad at all, he had been living alone for far too long.

She turned around and pulled out the tie that was holding her hair together. "Also, yours is the only mattress that isn't four hundred years old."

Harry fell asleep fast and peacefully. Too bad that waking up wasn't quite as nice.

.

Ginny was startled by a shout that nearly made her fall off the sofa, and it took her a good ten seconds to realize where she was before she started freaking out.

Ron was jogging down the stairs with a determined look on his face that scared her. "There's another one and a body in the scene, we have to go now!"

Ginny scrambled to her feet, still disoriented and aching all over from the game and from sleeping in an old dusty sofa. "What?"

"Get ready," Ron said before jogging back up the stairs.

She found her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water in her face. It didn't help, but at least she managed to wet her t-shirt and was now forced to change.

In the space of five minutes, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and her were all in the living room and ready to leave, except that Hermione was fumbling with the phone in her hand, to Ron's great annoyance.

"What are you doing? We need to leave now!"

"I'm calling Padma, I want her there too," Hermione said and put the phone to her ear. "You said it was inside the Muggle neighborhood of Whitechapel, but which house exactly?"

Ron opened the front door and they all followed him out. "Tell her to follow the blood."

Ginny thought Ron had been exaggerating for effect, but the way her empty stomach turned over at the sight in front of her told her otherwise. She had never seen so much blood, and that was coming from someone who had used buckets of chicken blood to write on walls.

Ginny shuddered. Better not to go there so early in the morning.

But the reality was hardly better. There was a red trail that started in the middle of a park that was inside the neighborhood and led them to the house, as if the bleeding person had dragged themselves out onto the streets and then suddenly…

"Dissaparated?" Ginny asked Ron. "Can you do that after you've bled so much?"

"It is possible," Hermione said. "Extremely dangerous of course."

The inside of the house wasn't much better and Ginny had to resist the urge to gag several times. But the desire to appear strong in the eyes of Aurors-Only Willsburg was more important.

The body inside the house had been identified as a Muggle, which gave Ginny a horrible foreboding that perhaps this was about  _him_  after all.

"The house belongs to the family of the boy," Willsburg told Ron and nodded to the body on the floor, currently being examined by Padma. He couldn't have been more than eighteen. "They're out of town and we already have people covering them in case they decide to come back early."

Ginny couldn't look at the Muggle boy anymore, she had to find something useful to do or she was going to be sick.

Harry stood on the far end of the room, looking at something on a table. Ginny walked up to him and her eyes were immediately drawn to the pocket watch sitting on the table. She could feel the eerie presence coming from it, as if it could watch them and felt… afraid?

"This one doesn't feel like him either," Ginny heard herself whisper, more to herself than anything, but Harry nodded.

She didn't like to remember what Voldemort's horcrux felt like, but it was impossible not to be automatically reminded when being in front of another horcrux.

"The pocket watch is Muggle," a voice told them and Harry and Ginny turned on the spot. It was another Auror that Ginny didn't recognize, but she didn't really care about that right then.

"What? Are you sure?" she asked, feeling a sudden relief wash over her.

"That's impossible!" Hermione called from the other side of the room and started approaching them. The girl had ears like a bat. "Muggle objects can't become horcruxes!"

The Auror backed away from Hermione a little and then his eyes fell on Harry and his mouth dropped. "You're Harry Potter," he whispered, looking suddenly very intimidated.

"Muggle objects aren't strong enough to handle the amount of magic that a horcrux requires," Hermione continued undeterred. "And that's not even mentioning that they need to encase the soul of a most likely powerful witch or wizard."

"Who cares about that, Hermione?" Harry asked, his green eyes suddenly very bright. "This means it isn't really him. He would  _never_  make a horcrux with a Muggle object"

Hermione's eyes widened in realization. The Auror took this opportunity to slip away.

"Wait, wait, wait." Ron came striding towards them, looking frazzled. "We can't make such strong assumptions without having all the evidence."

"Harry's right, Ron. There's no way he'd use a Muggle object. What more evidence do we need?" Ginny understood that Ron was just trying to be a good Auror, but that was exactly the kind of behavior that she hated from Law Enforcers.

"We need to take the horcrux to the labs and see what we can find," Hermione interjected. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she was interrupted.

"And who the bloody hell are you to make decisions here?" Willsburg looked furious, but Ron even more so.

He stepped in front of Hermione and facing his boss, which was about one foot shorter than Ron. "She's Hermione Granger and I dare you to find anyone who knows more about horcruxes than her."

Hermione, who had pulled out her wand and looked ready to murder someone, smiled slightly at Ron's words.

"I thought Kingsley made it perfectly clear who's in charge of this task force, and I trust any of these three people to make the decisions they seem fit." Ron pointed to Hermione, Harry, and Ginny.

Ginny beamed out of pride for her brother, but mostly because she enjoyed seeing Willsburg being taken down a few notches. "You got made head of the task force? Why didn't you tell us?"

Ron shrugged one shoulder but continued staring down at Willsburg, who muttered something about favoritism before storming away.

In the silence, Padma got to her feet next to the body, looking more uncomfortable with the situation than with the dead person she had been inspecting. "It was definitely the Avada," she informed them.

Before anyone could even think about what that meant, there was a loud bang and something hit Ginny on the back of the head. They all yelled and threw themselves down on the floor, pieces of glass and metal raining down on them. Ginny looked over her shoulder, expecting to see none other than Voldemort standing behind them, no matter how sure she had been that it wasn't him.

Her relief was short lived when she saw a figure that wasn't him, but what looked like a very opaque ghost of a girl. She opened her mouth and emitted a blood-curdling scream that made every hair on Ginny's body stand on end. The girl was standing on the table, her hands folded over her chest as she doubled over in apparent brutal, indescribable pain. She screamed again and again and each time it felt more terrifying until suddenly, as fast as she came she was gone, dissolving like steam in the air.

In the absence of her screams the silence was blissful and Ginny swore to herself she would appreciate it more.

"Is everyone alright?" Ron asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Other than a few small cuts on Padma's and Harry's arms from the glass and a bump of the back of Ginny's head, they were alright. Ginny wished she could say the same for her mental health, because the image of that literal piece of soul suffering a gruesome death would haunt her forever.

The Auror from before rushed into the living room, looking around wildly. "What happened?" he asked Padma who was closest.

Padma opened her mouth to answer, but Willsburg walked back inside, breathing fast and holding a phone in his hand. "A girl covered in blood apparated to St Mungos about an hour ago. And she didn't make it."

They all looked at each other for a moment, and Harry was the first one to turn around, his eyes landing on the scorch-mark on the table where the pocket watch used to be.

"It really isn't him," Harry breathed out, and Ginny was scared that the sentence didn't bring her as much joy as she had expected.

.

Ron had a very hard time deciding which was worse; watching the soul of this young girl bursting out of the horcrux, or watching her real body dead on a morgue.

"She looks…" Ginny said faintly and suddenly Ron thought of her eleven-year old sister, just a scared little girl who had no idea what was happening to her. "She looks even less present than the piece of her soul we saw."

 _That_  was the worst part. The body looked like it was barely there, just a white shape covered in blankets with her face revealed so they could identify her. There wasn't any sign of agony now, but apparently she had bled to death through a hole in her chest, which Ron was thankful he didn't have to see to believe.

"That's because it was half her soul," Hermione mumbled, looking like she was thinking hard and avoiding seeing the body in front of them.

"What?" Ron asked, failing to see how this was relevant.

"Think about it," Hermione turned to him. "Making a horcrux divides your soul in half, which means you are storing half your soul. That's a very big piece of one's soul. Voldemort made six horcruxes, seven unknowingly, so after the first one, every time he divided his soul again he was left with less and less but his horcruxes also contained a smaller piece of soul. The cup, the locket, the diadem; we were used to horcruxes with a  _lot_  less than half a soul."

"But the diary was the first one," Ginny added, looking curiously at Hermione.

Hermione turned to her, her eyes shining with that familiar inspiration that Ron was used to. "Precisely. Now, I never held the diary or saw Voldermort's soul emerging from it, but wouldn't you say that he seemed almost as present as this girl when the horcrux exploded?"

Ginny stared at Hermione for a moment and then she turn her head rapidly to look at Harry, who was sitting in the corner and looking down at his hands. "Harry?"

"Hermione's right," he simply said and looked up after a long sigh.

"I think that's why these horcruxes have seem somehow 'stronger' or more present than the ones we used to handle. Which is partly good because it gives further proof that they're not Voldermort's  _and_  that these people aren't making more than one horcrux." Hermione seemed satisfied with her conclusion, but as much as Ron thought she was probably on the right track, he couldn't stop looking at the girl and feeling sick.

"But why would someone like her even make a horcrux? The told us she was half-blood, the parents don't have any criminal records or ever shown signs to support Voldemort in the past. Why did she do this to herself?" He tried to imagine sixteen-year old Tom Riddle looking just as young and innocent but hiding a terrible secret as well.

"I'm more concerned with the 'how' than the 'why' right now." Hermione scrunched up her face in distaste. "No one is supposed to know the process, least of all someone like her."

"Come on,  _no one_? Ginny interjected. "You know. And I'm sure it wasn't easy keeping that information hidden."

Hermione started looking worried, as if trying to think if she had made a mistake that could have resulted in this mess. "Some Unspeakables know. But by the very nature of their job they're unable to speak of such things. The tongue-tying curse is the weakest of the spells used on them."

"Even if someone who's not supposed to know somehow does, is not your fault. It'd be virtually impossible to eliminate every trace of information about it, especially with Death Eaters and their families still around." Ron was sure Hermione was seconds away from calling Kingsley and asking him to revisit all the case files in the horcrux operation they did eight years ago.

Ginny put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I will kick your arse if you start blaming yourself."

Hermione tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

"What matters now is that there's someone out there with this information and we need to find them," Ron said and finally tore his eyes away from the poor girl's body. "Before something like this happens again."

There was a long silence and then they were startled by a door closing, and when Ron turned around, he realized it was Harry who had left. Both Hermione and Ginny stepped forward, intending to follow him, but Ron stopped them.

"Let me do it," he told them and walked out of the room.

Harry hadn't gone far, it wasn't like him to abandon them when there was still so much to do and solve. He was sitting in the empty waiting room, looking like he was waiting for one of them to come and talk to him because they all knew that they would.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked and sat next to him.

Harry nodded. "It's just, you know...fucking terrible."

There were a lot of words to describe what was happening, but 'fucking terrible' did a good job of summing it up. This will certainly bring out a lot of past feelings and trauma for the lot of them, but maybe Harry would get the worst of it and Ron had no idea how to fix it.

"I know you'll tell me to piss off, but you know you don't actually have to do this, right?" Ron asked and put a hand on Harry's back. "Nobody would blame you."

Harry huffed a laugh. "I know. And maybe I shouldn't, but we both know I'm still going to do it"

Ron nodded. "The more I think about it, the more I realize we still need to visit Theodore Nott junior," Ron said, trying to form a plan out loud. "The Death Eaters in Azkaban are old and insane, and all the people involved with these new horcruxes are very young. It might not be Voldemort himself, but something is definitely leading us to those people."

"But Nott junior wasn't a Death Eater." Harry pushed up his glasses and straightened up. "As far as I know he didn't participate in the war in any way."

"Yeah but if his father knew so much about Voldemort, maybe he has some information too. And I'm not saying just him; we should pay a visit to Malfoy, Goyle, Parkinson...one of those little shits must know something." Ron couldn't believe he would have to deal with his old school mates again after so long. He might actually be getting too old for this.

Harry nodded. "Alright, let's visit some Slytherins. But could we not go back in there?" Harry's eyes shifted to the door of the room where Hermione and Ginny were still waiting.

"Sure, there's no need. We should get something to eat before we do anything else. And I'm sure Hermione has more interesting theories to share with us meanwhile."

They smiled at each other and Harry clapped Ron on the back. "Thanks. I just need another moment."

Ron nodded and rubbed Harry's back. Harry could have all the moments he wanted to.

.

Hermione decided to go with Harry, Ginny, and Ron to the Nott residence and take a small break from trying to analyze souls. Not that she still wasn't immensely worried about the origins of said souls, but maybe it'd help to get out of the lab and clear her head. Besides, Padma was still working on it.

The mansion was nothing like she had expected. It was still enormous and unnecessarily flashy, but not in an old pureblood way. It had clearly been remodeled not long ago because it looked almost like one of those million-pound Muggle celebrity houses that she had seen on TV.

" _This_  is where Nott lives?" Harry asked when they approached the gate.

Ron looked down at the paper in his hand and nodded. "According to the official record."

Ginny scoffed. "He sure made up being a nobody as a kid by living it big."

Ginny had a point. Hermione knew next to nothing about Theodore Nott, but a pureblood boy with a Death Eater father didn't seem like the type of person who would live like this. There was definitely something fishy going on.

Ron rang the doorbell and they waited for a minute before the massive metal doors began opening, revealing the entrance to a long, tall, and very modern hall with polished wooden floors and colorful abstract paintings on the walls. They all looked at each other for confirmation that they should go on, and Ron took the first step.

There was absolute silence, only their footsteps echoing in the large place. It felt like a mile long, and the more they walked the more weirded out Hermione felt. Most of the stuff around them was definitely Muggle or Muggle-inspired and it didn't make any sense to her. There wasn't even a sign of a house-elf around there.

Finally, they came up to what looked like the doors to a living room or dinning hall and stopped.

"Hello?" Ron called out. When no one answered, he shrugged and pushed open the doors.

"Bloody hell," Ginny exhaled.

The entire placed was trashed beyond any logical reason. There were chairs overthrown, glass on the floor, crooked or broken paintings, and what looked like an  _unmoving_ body under the cushions of the sofa.

"Shit shit shit." Ron sprinted to the sofa and Hermione followed him, her heart speeding dangerously with adrenaline.

Ron grabbed the cushion covering the face of Theodore Nott and threw it over his shoulder. Harry and Ginny were at Hermione's sides now, breathing fast. Nott was white with dark bags under his eyes, but his face was otherwise normal. The problem was that Hermione wasn't worried about his face exactly, and Ron seemed to think along the same lines when he hesitated for a moment before removing the cushion covering Nott's chest. Hermione held her breath.

Nothing. There wasn't a hint of blood or an injury, just a pale and very skinny chest.

"Shit," Ron breathed out in relief.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Harry asked.

Nott opened his eyes.

Everybody in the room screamed and their shouts echoed in the tall walls and high ceilings. Nott scrambled to sit, pulling more cushions to his body and looking up at all the faces with terror.

"What the  _fuck?_ "

Hermione, who had nearly jumped into Harry when she saw that their ex-classmate wasn't dead, spoke first. "Are you okay?"

Nott frowned as if she was crazy. "Of course I'm not fucking okay! What the fuck are all of you doing in my house?" He continued to cover himself with cushions as if they couldn't already tell he was just in his underpants.

"We came to talk to you!" Ron exclaimed, still looking uneasy. "Why the fuck did the door open if you were asleep?"

Nott seemed to consider this question and then squinted as if it physically hurt him to do so. "Shit. I forgot to lock it after the party."

Party? Hermione took a moment to look around again and was shocked at how much she didn't see before. She was so wrapped up in her mind about the awful things that had happened in the previous days that she didn't notice the many empty bottles and glasses, poker cards all over the table, and even clothes thrown carelessly around.

There were nods of understanding all around. Nott wasn't in danger, he was just heavily hungover.

"Well, sorry for the inconvenience then," Ron said diplomatically. "But since we're already here, could we please ask you some questions?"

Nott didn't look at all happy or up to any kind of interrogation, but he nodded anyway. "Let me just…" He grabbed something that was hanging on the back of the sofa, which turned out to be a bathrobe, and Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione stepped away so Nott could stand up.

He winced and rubbed his temples for a moment before sighing. "Make yourselves comfortable. I need to find my wand."

They awkwardly made their way to the table because it looked like the only semi-appropriate place to sit. Nott started checking under coats, cushions, and even inside firewhiskey bottles.

"Have you tried 'accio'?" Hermione offered in an attempt to break the ice, and because he really did look like he needed help.

"I'm in no mood to be coddled, Granger. But no, I have not." He extended his arm out and his bathrobe opened in the front. "Accio wand."

It took a second for the wand to make its way into the room from who knows where, but as soon as Nott had it in his hand, he waved it again. "Accio hungover elixir." The small vial flew into Nott's hand and he uncorked it and downed it immediately.

"Okay. Now I might actually manage to look at your faces without the urge to vomit," he said as he walked over to the table.

"How charming," Ginny mocked with a roll of her eyes.

Nott sat himself on the other side of the table, facing the rest of them. "Is not every day that I get a visit from Potter, Granger, and no less than two Weasleys. I must have done something really bad or really good." He managed a smile that was definitely forced.

Hermione realized that if she were to run into the man in front of her on the street, she wouldn't recognize him at all. She barely remembered what he looked like in school, and he was also very different from the photographs she had seen of his father. Nott junior was tall, lean, and pale, but with very dark wavy hair that almost reached his shoulders. His eyes were equally as dark and he had a hint of boyish charm that was scaled down thanks to him passing out drunk on his sofa.

"We just need to ask you some questions about your father," Ron explained, folding his hands on the table.

If it was possible, Nott paled even more. "Shit. What did he do now? Did he escape?"

He seemed terrified of that prospect and they all caught on that detail because the four of them shook their heads.

"No, no," Ron assured him. "But we talked to him the other day and we were wondering if you know something about what he told us."

"Why would I know?" Nott frowned, but he had regained some of his color.

"Because he's your father?" Ginny supplied in that sarcastic tone of hers. "He might have told you."

There was a brief silence in which Nott took turns looking at each of their faces, as if searching something that Hermione didn't understand, and the he burst out laughing.

They were all so taken aback that Harry actually jumped at the sound and then they looked at each other in beliwelderement. Nott laughed with his eyes closed tight for what felt like a full minute before he settled down enough to speak.

"That's hilarious." He dried the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his bathrobe. "You really believe that my father would share something with me?"

"Why is that so far-fetched?" Hermione asked, slightly lost. She knew the man must have been a terrible father, but so was Lucius Malfoy and he still cared about his son.

"Because my father hates me," Nott said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Which is understandable once you realize I'm gay, not a bigot, and give a shit about my life which is his complete opposite. Also I celebrated his imprisonment by remodeling his old disgusting house and turning it into a modern Muggle haven."

Hermione had no idea what to say to any of that, and apparently neither did the others because the silence was awkward and heavy.

"So to answer your question; no. My father didn't share any kind of information with me, even less if it was something important."

"You must have heard something, though. Living with a Death Eater and all," Ron tried again, and Hermione could tell he was trying hard not to say the word 'horcrux' because they had agreed to refrain from using it in case Nott really didn't know anything. "Some acts involving dark magic have occurred and we need to find out who's doing them."

Nott grimaced. "I genuinely thought I would never be involved in this kind of shit again. I don't know what to tell you, I know nothing about dark magic and even less about my father's doings. You can search my entire house if you'd like, but you'll see that I've thrown away most of the stuff that was here for centuries. The only thing I kept were the books because I was told they were priceless."

Hermione gasped. "Yes!" she exclaimed in excitement and everybody turned to look at her. "The books!"

She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that, not eight years ago and not before his moment.

At the questioning look from her friends, and even from Nott, she knew she had to explain without revealing too much. "I realized now that back then we searched all public libraries, but we never searched private ones. That's how they know."

She watched the understanding dawning on their faces, everyone except Nott. "Who's they? What do they know?"

"Sorry, we can't tell you," Ron said, still looking at Hermione. "But none of them have been pureblood and they're the ones that would have those kind of books."

"Ooh, none-purebloods causing trouble? Who are they? What kind of books?" Nott asked again.

"We can't tell you," Hermione repeated. "But maybe a pureblood is behind it."

"I agree with Granger, a pureblood is definitely behind it."

They all stared at Nott with different levels of exasperation, but Hermione almost felt like laughing and Harry actually hid his smile behind his hand.

"You said you didn't know anything," Ginny told him.

He shrugged. "I don't, but it makes sense, no?"

Ron stood up. "Right, we should go."

"Seriously? Just when it's getting interesting?" Nott threw up his hands in the air and then slammed them down on the table. "Typical Gryffindors. You don't even want to stay and search my library?"

This time Hermione laughed and so did the others, but they got up anyway and started heading for the door. "We do, but there's things we should do first," Ron told him.

Nott rose as well and walked them over to the front door, not caring that his open robes still left him mostly exposed. Hermione wanted to ask him about some of the paintings and weird decorations that were found on every wall, but her mind was preoccupied going through a list of all the books they needed to be on the lookout for.

"Thank you, Nott. We'll be in touch." Ron extended out his hand and Nott shook it as he rolled his eyes.

"I guess if I want you to loosen your tongues I should invite you to the next party and be done with it," Nott said and then yawned. "But not for a couple of days. I'm too tired."

Hermione smiled. "Goodbye."

Nott closed the door and they started walking away quietly, all probably going through the strange events in their own heads.

When they reached a point for apparition, Harry, who had been extremely quiet the entire evening, spoke. "I liked him."

Hermione looked at him curiously and nodded. "Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! It was very fun to write and I can't wait for you guys to see what comes soon. Please let me know what you think! <3


	4. Four

**Chapter Four**

Ron didn't know why he was nervous; it wasn't as if he hadn't met the people in the room or spoken to them before. It was just Hermione, Kingsley, and Percy.

"And then Hermione realized that private libraries were never checked for books containing information on horcruxes," he explained to Kingsley as Percy took notes.

"And you believe that the girl learnt how to make one through a book from a private collection?" Kingsley asked. "How would she get access to something like that?"

"With help," Hermione answered a little too loudly for the small meeting room they were in. "We think someone is spreading the information."

Kingsley nodded gravely and was quiet for a moment, only the scratching of Percy's pen could be heard. Ron thought that Kingsley didn't look happy, but the man hardly ever did.

"So this means that you've completely ruled out the possibility of this being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doings?" Kingsley asked.

For the first time since the meeting started Percy looked up, his eyes locking with Ron's for a second before Ron focused in Kingsley.

"No." He hated having to say that, but until all the evidence was laid out and confirmed, they'd have to be careful. "But we are almost certain that the horcruxes aren't his. Hermione and Padma Patil are working on finding the identity of the other two that we have."

Ron wished Harry was there, because he got the feeling that Kingsley would be more sure about this whole situation if Harry would confirm that he didn't believe Voldemort was behind it. But Harry had already missed a lot of work and needed to train his second in command to keep going while he was, once again, hunting horcruxes. Likewise, Ginny was out looking for a replacement that could cover for her while she was gone.

Hermione nodded confidently. "I'm going down the labs as soon as we finish the meeting because Padma is near a breakthrough."

"And what would be the next step following this lead about the libraries?" Kingsley shook his head. "If someone already knows the process of making horcruxes, what's to stop them even if we find the book they learnt it from?"

Hermione jumped to the edge of her seat and Ron had a flashback of her at Hogwarts, eager to answer a teacher's question. "The person would need to have the book or at least a copy. The process is very intricate and complex; memorizing it would be virtually impossible."

"Anyone with a book that even mentions horcruxes is a suspect under these circumstances," Ron explained. "We need permission to search these private libraries."

"What?" it was Percy who spoke, frowning behind his square spectacles. "Sir, that would be political suicide."

Ron sighed. Hermione had already mentioned that they wouldn't like the idea, but he had been hoping that she was wrong. What a fool.

"I'm aware," Kingsley said. "Acceptance is already low without the government actively meddling in people's private business, let alone actually inspect their houses and confiscate possibly priceless items."

"Unless…" Percy said thoughtfully. "If we do a press release and tell the media why we're doing it, the fear of You-Know-Who will certainly make people more comfortable with the invasion of their privacy."

"We can't tell people what's going on. It would alert whoever's doing it that we're onto them." Ron would  _not_  let government propaganda ruin this investigation.

"And we can't just use Voldemort's name to make people less angry, especially when it might not even be him," Hermione added. "No matter how convenient it is."

Kingsley rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, I understand how important this is, but I can't risk more bad press when there's already people protesting Muggle technology and new schools and such. The Society for Traditional Magic Preservation have protested twice this week and they have my office stuffed with their letters. If they find out we're targeting old pureblood families specifically they'll have my head."

Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to argue a perfectly valid point, but Ron put his hand on her arm to stop her. He knew a lost cause when he saw one.

"Alright let's do this," Kingsley said clapping his hands together. "Ask the families if they'd consent to a search. If it's voluntary we won't get in any trouble and if you find anything suspicious then we'll deal with that later."

"We already have," Ron told him. He and Hermione had stayed up late writing letters to every pureblood family in Britain. When Hermione had told him that Kingsley wouldn't like the plan, Ron wanted to be prepared for anything. "But that's the problem; the ones who won't consent are the ones who have something to hide."

"And so far someone's already said no and two others won't answer," Hermione added.

Kingsley got to his feet. "Then go directly to the houses and attempt to convince them. If you see any strange behavior then at least we'll have a reason to do a search order. It's all we can do for now."

Hermione visibly deflated and Ron patted her hand.

"I'm sorry Granger, Weasley," Kingsley said looking at both of them. "Please be in touch as soon as possible."

Kingsley strode away and Percy stood up.

"I'm sure he'll change his mind if you find something suspicious," Percy told them, looking apologetic. "Besides, who's going to say no to you two, Ginny, and Harry?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other briefly.

"Zabini, Parkinson," Ron grimaced. "And Malfoy."

.

It didn't need to be said that Hermione was in a terrible mood. She was tired, frustrated, and she still needed to deal with a stubborn piece of soul of some idiotic witch of wizard with delusions of grandeur.

"Padma texted me like five times during the meeting, I think she's found something important," Hermione told Ron as they walked into the lift. "Hey, do you want to come? Might be interesting."

Ron shook his head and yawned. "Thanks but I think I'll go and take a nap before things get crazy again."

The lift stopped on the ground floor. "Alright, call me if there's anything new." Hermione got in her tiptoes and kissed Ron's cheek.

"You too," Ron said with a sleepy smile and walked out.

The doors closed again and Hermione continued her long journey to the Ministry labs, well hidden underground and behind countless security spells, doors, and obstacles. At least those were the Unspeakable labs she had been using.

When she finally got through the last wand checkpoint and whispered the password to the giant metallic skull guarding the door, she entered the lab and Padma jumped in front of her almost immediately.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked as her hands wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, gripping her rather hard.

Hermione's eyes widened and her stomach dropped in fear. "I was in a meeting with Kingsley. What happened?"

Padma let go of her and walked over to the table where the two horcruxes were sitting, along with a mess of papers and books. "Sorry I'm so freaked out it's just… I was reading through some of your notes on the other horcruxes and you say that the diary communicated with Ginny and Harry, right?"

Hermione nodded and walked up next to Padma.

"Well, if we could somehow communicate with one of these then perhaps we could learn who they are without having to open them and risk accidentally killing them." She stopped and cringed. "Or purposely because they might try to harm us."

Hermione couldn't help but smile despite Padma's uneasy behavior. "That's a brilliant idea! Could you figure out how to communicate?"

Padma nodded grimly and Hermione stopped smiling. "I assumed that writing isn't the way all horcruxes communicate because a cup or a diadem or a music box couldn't do it."

"Each horcrux must have its unique way," Hermione concluded. "Did you try writing with the pen?"

Padma shook her head softly as she put her hands around the music box and dragged it closer to her. "No. I started with this one."

Hermione frowned. Her first instinct would have been to use the pen, since they already knew a horcrux that could 'write'. But the music box?

Padma took a deep breath. "Listen carefully."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione's stomach dropped to her feet and her heart started racing. Padma took the small knob on the back of the box and turned it to the left five times, until they heard the mechanism click. Hermione leaned in closer despite everything in her body telling her to back away.

A soft melodic tune started coming from the small box, sweet and slightly metallic like all the other music boxes Hermione had heard. She wasn't sure what she was expecting exactly, but this wasn't it. She turned to look at Padma, whose face was twisted with disturbance as she listened carefully.

And then Hermione heard it.

It could have almost been part of the song if she hadn't been paying this much attention, but now that she understood what it was, it couldn't be unheard. A small wispy voice was also coming from the box, almost overpowered by the tune, but the words were unequivocal.

"I made a mistake. I made a mistake. I made a mistake." Over and over again.

Hermione straightened up. The song ended, it wasn't very long, and when she looked up from the box Padma was already staring at her.

"It's the creepiest thing that I've ever witnessed," Padma declared.

Hermione had had her fair share of creepy experiences, but this was definitely on the top five. "Can they…" her throat felt suddenly dry. "Can they hear us?"

Padma shrugged a little. "I don't know. When I first heard it I was too shocked to say anything and then I wanted to reach you before doing it again." She cleared her throat and set her shoulders back, looking like she was forcing herself to push past her discomfort. "But that's the first thing we need to try now."

Hermione gathered her papers and pen to take notes, as well as keeping her wand close just in case.

"Alright. Do it again."

Padma wound the music box again five times. This time when the music started Hermione was able to hear the words immediately. She thought it could have been a male voice, but she wasn't sure.

"Hello," Padma spoke to the box, loud and clear. "Can you hear me?"

Hermione wrote down what Padma was doing, and then as if on cue, the voice stopped. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she and Padma shared equally surprised and scared looks. The music was still playing.

"Hello?" the voice came again, a little louder than before.

"Hello, can you hear me?" Padma repeated. Hermione was writing furiously.

"Yes, yes!" the voice said excitedly, much more clear than before.

Padma was about to answer back when the song ended. She and Hermione both released their breaths before Padma wound up the mechanism again.

Along with the music, there were frenetic calls of "Hello? Hello?"

"I'm here," Padma said, her voice shaking slightly. "I can hear you."

"Yes, thank you, thank you," the voice said sounding both relieved and frightened. "I need help, I've made a terrible mistake."

Hermione felt a heavy rush of pity, but she tried to ignore it and be critical about this; for all they knew this could be a trick.

"What's your name?" Padma asked and then she started turning the mechanism again, making the song start over before it ended.

"Brice Langley," the voice said and Hermione pulled the report papers closer to her so she could confirm the name. It was indeed the same name as the one they identified with the mangled body of the first horcrux. She nodded to let Padma know that it matched.

"Well Brice, I'm an Unspeakable and work for the Ministry. " Padma leaned in closer. "I will try to help you, but I need all the details of what happened."

There was a small silence in which only the music could be heard and then what sounded like a shaky breath. "I thought I knew how to do it. I read the explanation about a hundred times. I almost memorized the incantation. But… but I still messed it up. I don't know what exactly, I think I didn't sacrifice enough butterflies or maybe flicked my wand in the wrong direction."

"B-butterflies?" Padma asked as she once again reset the song.

"They were the most innocent animals I could think of," Brice said, almost ashamed.

Hermione gulped. She remembered that section of the process quite vividly.

Padma nodded. "Do you remember what happened after you performed the spell?"

"Pain," Brice said simply, followed by a sob. "Unbelievable pain. And then I thought I must have done it right because I could feel something leaving my body." Brice's voice was breaking up and Hermione felt a knot in her throat too. She could tell Padma was very uncomfortable as well. "The next thing I knew, I was out. I was watching my body from the outside as it crumbled to the floor, bleeding. I tried to come back, to put myself back in or something but… I couldn't. I was being pulled by this immense force and the next second it all went black."

Padma straightened up and looked at Hermione with utmost horror. The song ended and this time she let it. Hermione felt somehow glad, because even though she was pretty sure Brice already knew this, it didn't feel right to let him hear it.

"Does this mean that-" Padma started and Hermione started nodding before she could finish as she bit her tongue inside her mouth.

"Yes." Hermione had no idea how this could ever turn out alright. "His entire soul is in there."

.

A part of Ginny felt oddly attached to 12 Grimmauld Place. After all she had spent some time there as a teenager when the second war was beginning, and then she moved in with Harry as soon as she was out of Hogwarts. That didn't last long, though, but she still felt nostalgic every time she returned.

The place had unofficially become their headquarters during this investigation, mostly because it was vastly more comfortable than the Ministry and they could talk without being overheard. They were all sitting quietly in the living room after their respective long days, and after Hermione had just told them about the nightmare-ish horcrux discovery.

"Is there a way to help him?" Harry asked ,his voice low. Ginny suddenly realized that he was sitting in an armchair where they once had sex, and a very vivid flashback passed through her mind before she shook her head, trying to get rid of it. This was hardly the time or place.

"I have been thinking about it ever since we realized what had happened but…" Hermione trailed off, looking horrified. "His body is basically destroyed. He didn't split his soul as much as he  _ripped_  it out. That's why there's a hole in his chest, and that's probably what happened to the other girl."

Ginny shuddered. She couldn't believe someone would be so stupid to even attempt such a thing. "So what else did you find out? Did you ask him how or why he did it?"

Hermione nodded as she finally leaned back in the sofa and seemed to be forcing herself to relax. "He said he was in the Dark Arts section of Diagon's public library, browsing and getting his curiosity get the best of him, when someone approached him. It was a man who seemed to have a lot of knowledge in the dark arts, and claimed to be disgusted with the censorship that the current government was imposing on the schools and public centers and he told Brice that if he wanted to really learn about the true dark arts, then he'd be in touch."

Ron dragged a hand down his face. "For fuck's sake. This is why mothers tell children not to talk to strangers."

"Brice said the man started owling him daily, telling him all sorts of stories about conspiracies and cover-ups that the government is doing to keep the new generations from knowing about Voldemort and all he was 'capable' of'," Hermione continued. "Eventually he mentioned horcruxes and apparently made them sound as if they were this amazing feat that could strengthen your magic and the government doesn't want anyone to know because everyone could become too powerful. The man also claims that several people in high Ministry ranks have horcruxes themselves, including Kingsley." Hermione sighed. "In the end he sent Brice copies of the pages on how to make the horcrux, which were charmed to self-destruct once the act was done."

"How thick could you get?" Ginny scoffed incredulously. "It's not as if all of this happened hundreds of years ago, basically everyone who witnessed the Battle of Hogwarts is still alive today!" Ginny stopped, realizing what she had said and feeling something heavy and angry setting inside her. "Except the ones who literally gave their lives to the cause. It's unforgivable that there are people who would just...disregard the sacrifice that they made." Ginny bit her lip and dug her fingernails into her palms as she tried hard not to let the tears fall, because if she started thinking about Fred too much, she wouldn't be able to stop.

Hermione and Ron were on either side of Ginny on the sofa, and as if on cue both took her hands in theirs and held tightly. Harry looked at her with both pain and anger and right then Ginny knew that he would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of this.

Just like her.

"We won't let them get away with this, Gin." Hermione managed a sad smile. "We're closer than ever now."

Ginny nodded gratefully to both Hermione and her brother and they let go of her. She dried out her eyes with her sleeve.

"So who's the bastard?" Ron asked, his voice definitely more strained than usual. "Did he give you a name or appearance? Though both would probably be altered."

"The man told Brice to refer to him as 'T', but Brice has no idea what that stands for. He also said that the man did seem to be trying to hide his looks the one time he saw him and that he suspected some kind of disguise charm," Hermione then ruffled through her purse that was sitting on the floor at her feet and pulled out a thick roll of parchment. "I have the entire description written out so you can give it to someone in the Auror department to do a sketch for us." She handed Ron the parchment.

"What did he look like?" Harry asked, his voice neutral and empty and his face hardened with what Ginny recognized as determination.

Hermione seemed apprehensive for a second and now Ginny was really curious. "Tall, thin, pale. Wavy brown hair and dark eyes, Sort of average but also 'fancy looking' in Brice's words."

Ron and Harry leaned forward at the same time, but it was Ginny who spoke. " _Nott_? No way. If that filthy little snake lied to us-"

"We don't know it's him," Hermione interrupted.

"She's right," Ron added. "Besides, this could all be a set up. Brice might be lying."

"We should still talk to Nott again," Harry said, still looking serious.

Ron nodded. "But there's something more important first. For some reason Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson don't want us to search their houses and Kingsley isn't giving us permission to do it until we talk to them. I think finding out what they're hiding should be priority number one."

"If Nott is somehow involved, and he didn't mind us searching his house, maybe that's because he has the evidence somewhere else," Ginny said, all the while going over the events at Nott mansion in her head. "And who better to help him than his old Slytherin mates?"

"Right," Ron agreed. "Now, I think Malfoy's most suspicious for outright refusing instead of ignoring us like Zabini and Parkinson, and I think we all agree he's the biggest git of them all."

There were nods all around. Ginny actually couldn't remember much about the other two, other than knowing they were both pompous idiots and that Parkinson was an ugly cow.

"We shouldn't waste any more time if we already know we won't be able to convince them of letting us in their houses." Harry removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "If we split we can talk to them tomorrow morning, it'll take us less than an hour, and then we come to Kingsley and get the permission forms."

"I'm just telling you now that Kingsley is still going to put up a fight," Hermione said with a shrug.

"We'll have to deal with him. For now, let's say two people go to Malfoy Manor tomorrow, just in case."

Ron had barely said the words when Harry had already moved to the edge of his seat. "I'll go."

It had been a while since Ginny saw Harry so ready to fight. Ever since the war ended he'd been nothing but peace a quiet.

"You go with him, Hermione." Ron nudged Hermione on the arm. "Make sure he doesn't murder Malfoy without any proof."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why do I have to be everybody's self control? What if  _I_ murder Malfoy?"

Even Harry laughed at that.

"I'll take Zabini. His perfume company has sponsored many Ministry events, so I find it very strange that he suddenly doesn't answer to official ministry related business." Ron pulled out his wallet and then from it a small black card with shimmering golden letters. It smelled like sandalwood. "He even gave his personal business card to everyone at the last annual Auror's ball."

Ginny didn't remember the man, but just by seeing his pretentious business card she already hated him.

"He doesn't have any record of dark magic, though," Hermione commented.

"Neither does Nott," Ginny reminded her. "And yet there's already evidence against him."

"Ginny, do you think you can handle Parkinson?" Ron asked her.

Ginny laughed incredulously. "If she doesn't talk I'm going to-"

"You  _cannot_  torture her." Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Or hex, curse, poison, or even threaten her. Even if you're not a government official you're still acting in behalf of the Auror Department. Do you understand?"

Ginny groaned.

"I need to hear you say that you understand."

" _Fine_ ," Ginny said with a side glance. "I understand."

"Good. We'll go first thing in the morning." Ron got to his feet and yawned.

But he didn't say anything about punching the life out of Pansy's pug face.

.

Harry lay awake that night for what felt like hours, but in reality it was barely midnight. For some reason he simply couldn't sleep and the more he tried the harder it was getting. He turned his head to the left and saw Hermione curled up peacefully under the sheets, her hair falling messily over her face. The image alone was so comforting that it should have helped Harry fall asleep, but not even that was doing the trick.

He carefully got out of the bed, taking his wand and wordlessly levitating a pair of shoes and robes out of the room. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he knew he needed to do something instead of going over every single detail about the last few days trying to see if there was something he was missing and driving himself crazy.

He walked past Regulus' old room, where he heard Ron snoring, and then past Sirius' where he knew Ginny was also fast asleep, and then he went downstairs.

It was a Thursday night and the neighborhood was quite alive. There were groups of teenagers drinking on the steps leading up to the buildings, people walking their dogs, and even a Hen party that seemed to have gotten lost but were too drunk to care. Harry was glad because all of these distractions would surely take his mind off the case for a while, so he started walking down the busiest street. After a few blocks he saw that some of the buzz was due to the opening of a new pub. It was rather small and unassuming, and even though it was very packed, Harry decided to enter.

He found a lonely stool at the end of the bar and ordered a beer. He didn't feel like getting sloshed exactly, but maybe some alcohol would make him sleepy.

Harry often visited the pubs of the area, mostly an ancient one that served the best firewhiskey and was always frequented by grumpy old men. He had also gone a few times to one of the only gay pubs in Wizarding London but for some reason he still had trouble with being recognized there. This pub, though, was nothing like those. It didn't look like a pub at all, more like a coffee place that served cocktails. It was very simple and tastefully decorated but still… strange.

It took Harry awhile to realize that part of the reason why it felt so strange was because of the crowd. Every single one of the people inside the pub were  _very young._ As in, barely legal. He knew pubs usually had age-sensitive spells in order not to sell to minors, but most of these kids looked like they had turned eighteen yesterday. He must have been the only person there who was over twenty five, even the bartender looked like a kid. Not that there was anything wrong with that, perhaps this pub was targeted for young adults or older teens or whatever, but he definitely found it odd.

Harry finished his first beer and ordered a second. People watching was always fun, and it usually took his mind off whatever issue he was having, but these particular people were so young that Harry was beginning to feel like a creepy old man just by being there. Besides, they were getting progressively drunker and bolder, with some of them snogging heavily on the corners of the place. Harry's eyes were drawn to the makeshift dance floor, which was really just the bigger space in between coffee tables. A couple was dancing, only it really wasn't a couple, because they were  _three_. A bloke in between a girl, who he was kissing pretty heavily, and another bloke who was grinding slowly behind him.

Harry was so taken aback by this blatant display of unconventional love that for a moment he couldn't stop staring. He was pleasantly surprised that kids these days seemed to be more open towards different relationships, because you sure as hell couldn't do something like that in another pub that wasn't gay, at least not the ones he knew. And even then, he had never seen more than  _two_  people at it.

Harry shook his head and looked away, realizing that he either must look like a judgemental prick or a perverted loon, because he was the only one paying the three-way-couple any mind.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry almost fell down of his stool. A boy who really couldn't be older than nineteen had sat down next to him and was looking at Harry intently, almost daringly.

"Hi. Yes, I am." Harry pushed up his glasses had had slide down from the sudden movement. "And you are?" Harry smiled and offered the boy his hand.

The boy looked down at Harry's hand as if it was the most curious thing he'd ever seen. He then looked up at Harry's face again, his brown eyes inspecting Harry's scar.

"Andrew," he said as he shook Harry's hand.

Harry was no stranger to being recognized, but it usually didn't go like this. Granted, the boy had probably had quite a few drinks, but that didn't explain why he was looking at Harry with what almost looked like suspicion.

"You're probably wondering why an old man like me is sitting at this pub," Harry said with an awkward laugh.

Andrew didn't laugh. "How did you get your scar?"

Harry must have heard him wrong. He leaned in closer, thinking that the music wasn't really that loud. "Excuse me?"

"Your scar," Andrew repeated with a blank expression. "How did you get it?"

Harry blinked a few times, unsure of how to approach this. He had been asked that question before, but always by small children. "Did you go to Hogwarts, Andrew?"

Andrew nodded.

"Then you must have heard how I got my scar, right?" Harry wasn't trying to be condescending, but it was clear that Andrew wasn't playing dumb.

Harry thought he might have seen the boy blush slightly, but it was hard to tell from the light. "I just wanted to ask if it was true."

Harry smiled. "I'm afraid it is."

Andrew seemed to accept this answer, as he nodded once and then turned to finish off the last of his beer. The bartender handed Andrew his tab and the boy reached for his wallet before Harry stopped him.

"Let me," Harry told him and then he handed the bartender a few sickles to pay for his and Andrew's drinks.

Andrew smiled the tiniest bit. "Thank you."

Harry returned the smile and got to his feet. "Nice to meet you, Andrew. Be safe out there."

As he walked towards the exit, Harry noticed that a lot of people were staring at him. Word must have spread out that he was there, so he was glad that he had decided to leave right then, because the atmosphere of the place had gotten a bit tense, and he couldn't say that all the attention he was getting felt entirely positive.

When he arrived back to 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry felt a lot less anxious than before. It had been a strange couple of hours, but at least he now felt somewhat sleepy. He got into bed next to Hermione and closed his eyes, not thinking about the horcruxes, not thinking about Death Eaters, and definitely not thinking about Draco Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! I promise we will finally see some Slytherin faces next chapter! Let me know what you think <3


	5. Five

**Chapter Five**

Ginny had never been to this part of the country before. Malfoy Manor was in a similar place, but far away from here, and so was Nott Manor and Zabini Manor and every other Manor that Ginny knew. It was as if long ago all purebloods decided where to settle and they each took a piece of land bigger and more ostentatious than the other, basically colonizing all the best spots outside of the city.

That's probably exactly what happened.

The hills around the enormous house were unbelievable and she got a sudden urge to fly over them. But she had a job to do and the job was anything but pleasant.

The outside gate of the manor was polished and shiny, the metal twisting elegantly in the middle to form a large 'P' and Ginny could only roll her eyes. She found a large bell hanging to the right and assumed that was the way to communicate with the inside of the house. At The Burrow you merely needed to scream when you were in the vicinity and someone would let you in.

She pulled the cord under the brass bell and was surprised at the amplified sound it made. Ginny's heart was pounding suddenly with the expectation of seeing the Parkinson family, but then the seconds ticked by and all was in complete silence. Maybe they hadn't heard her. She pulled again harder this time though the sound was the same. Again, seconds turned into a minute and Ginny was starting to lose patience; not that she had a lot to begin with.

She could call Hermione and ask her what to do, or maybe go directly to Kingsley to tell him the Parkinsons clearly weren't interested in cooperating.

She could. But she wouldn't.

Ginny was sick of waiting and sick of bureaucratic incompetence. It was clear that whoever was in this manor didn't want to answer any questions, even less consent to a search. They even had wards in place, which these days wasn't so common unless you were expecting to be attacked, so Ginny thought it was time she took matters into her own hands.

She picked up a stick from the ground and carefully approached the gate again. She could feel the magic crackling just behind the metal, and with one quick movement, she poked with the stick just through the bars. Hitting the wards, the stick bounced back against her hand with a hissing sound, though it didn't look broken or damaged. Ginny had seen wards much stronger than these, hell, she had even placed wards much stronger than these, so she thought it'd be no problem getting them to crack. She just needed a small enough hole to get through and then she could put them back in place without a problem.

She walked around the perimeter of the manor, remembering a class with Professor Flitwick in which he explained that most wards had weak spots directly under the highest point they covered. This manor had its own owlrly on the right wing, and it took Ginny about five minutes to walk over to that side, but it was definitely the highest point of the place, and there was no gate. She prepared herself, wand at the ready, and then she started firing spells straight down underneath the owlrly, as hard and fast as she could while still keeping rather quiet. She felt a long forgotten thrill at releasing all this intense magic unrestrictedly.

She could already feel the wards starting to crack and she wondered if anyone had noticed. Shimmering sparks were flying everywhere from the point she was hitting and then with a hissing sound, Ginny felt the ward start to crumble around it. She walked closer, still firing spells just in case, and when she was close enough she carefully ventured her other hand out. It went through without a problem and she smiled.

There was no absolute way of knowing how much of the wards she had managed to dissolve, at least she didn't know it, so she took a chance and threw herself forward. The bottom of her robes became stuck in something but she managed to get her body through. When she looked down she noticed that the fabric of her robes was slightly scorched, but nothing that a few repairing spells couldn't fix.

Ginny waited for a moment to see if she had been discovered, but the absolute silence confirmed that she had been successful so far.

The more she walked towards the house, the wilder and thicker the grass and plants around her. For a moment she thought this might have been a defense technique to keep people away from the manor, but she couldn't spot any dangerous plants or hidden traps. It simply looked like an overgrown garden that no one had bothered to maintain, but it sure didn't look like way from the outside, you could only see it once you were past the hideous fountains and tree sculptures. It was scaring Ginny in a way that actual defensive tactics wouldn't have, because she couldn't understand what it meant. These people had never stopped being rich, or it would have been known to the public, and it's not like you suddenly stop caring about your ridiculous high-class garden.

Ginny could finally see the main entrance to the manor, but there was no way she was going to try and enter through there. The more time she spent inside the Parkinson's property, the more she thought they didn't want anyone there and the more her curiosity about it grew. She walked close to the outer wall of the house, trying to find the perfect spot to get through. Perhaps some kind of air-duct or abandoned back door would work.

After a while she found the right one. It was a small window on the third floor, and it wasn't near any other windows, which probably meant that it led to a small deposit or cupboard.

It took her awhile to figure out how to get there, but eventually she realized the solution was right there. She collected as many large rocks and pieces of broken fountains or statues as she could, and then she levitated one on top of the other, stacking them high and placing all the sticking spells she knew. After that, climbing and even unlocking the window was a piece of cake. But once inside, Ginny briefly wished she had never entered.

It wasn't a cupboard and it wasn't a deposit. She was standing inside a very large and  _very_  creepy nursery.

All pink and gold as far as the eye could see, which wasn't much because the small window didn't allow that much light, but Ginny was sure it all looked the same. It seemed like it hadn't been used in years, which made sense, but seeing spiderwebs over a big fancy cradle gave Ginny chills. She carefully walked to where she imagined the door was, because she couldn't really see it from there. There were mountains of toys, tiny clothes, and expensive-looking decorations.

It looked like the abandoned room of a newborn princess.

Ginny had been avoiding thinking about it ever since she saw the room, because she wasn't sure how to feel about it, but this was obviously Pansy's old nursery. She had slept inside that cradle and played with these toys and generally been...a baby.

And now Ginny was breaking into her house to confront her about horcruxes. Life took some strange turns.

Ginny shook her head and carried on until she found the door and left the room as soon as possible, not even bothering to check if someone was there. Thankfully, the hallway was empty, so Ginny walked carefully, straining her ears for any signs of presence and not really knowing where she was headed.

The absence of noise wasn't so relieving this time, and it was starting to make Ginny feel unsettled. Not only could she hear no sounds at all, which could mean no one was in this part of the house since the place was very big, but it also looked like no one had been there for a long time. It was all dusty and slightly out of place, like the carpet that didn't match the turns of the corridors, or the furniture not aligning with the lamps.

"Merlin's beard!"

If it was possible to jump out of one's skin, Ginny was sure she would have done it. The squeaky voice came out of nowhere, and even drawing her wand and spinning on the spot didn't help Ginny locate the source, because no one was there.

That's when she remembered that portraits existed.

A large, golden-framed portrait of a fat woman hung on the wall to Ginny's right after turning the corner. It sat atop of a shelf with more portraits, but Ginny could only focus on the woman looking at her. She had long black hair, a rather pudgy nose, and black eyes that stared at Ginny with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.

"Keep it quiet, will you?" Ginny asked, trying not to let the woman know she had scared her.

The woman laughed disdainfully. "Ha! Don't be silly girl, you can't tell me what to do." She leaned closer into her portrait. "Who are you and why are you sneaking around this manor?"

"I'm...under official ministry business," Ginny lied. "So you need to remain silent while I continue."

The woman laughed again. "Silent? Me?" she started shouting and Ginny fought the temptation to curse the portrait to smithereens. "I was never quiet in life and I don't pretend to start now!" Her loud voice rang all down the hall and echoing on the walls. Someone must have heard her.

"Please, shut up!" Ginny snapped. "It's not my fault the Parkinsons didn't want to let me in and now I have to sneak around!"

The woman frowned and inspected Ginny. "Well, of course they didn't let you in, you silly girl. They're not here!"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but felt suddenly too stupid to come up with anything to say. Of course they weren't there. That explained the wards and the silence.

But it didn't explain the abandoned sections of the property.

"When will they return?" Ginny asked, hoping she still had at least some leverage.

"How would I know?" The woman shrugged. "I haven't seen anyone for months. Harold told me the young one stopped by the other day, but I don't recall when." The woman pointed at another portrait down the hall of an old wizard sleeping. "He has another portrait downstairs. Sadly, they never thought it important to make me more than one."

Ginny stared at the sour-looking woman wondering how much she could get away with asking. "Do you know where they are?"

The woman shrugged one shoulder, her nose high in the air. "Could be anywhere, girl. The Parkinsons have money, you know."

"Oh, do they?" Ginny rolled her eyes and started taking off. "Thanks for your help."

"Girl, are you a Prewett, perhaps?" The squeaky voice asked and made Ginny stop and turn around. The woman eyed Ginny up and down. "You look an awful lot like a Prewett I knew."

Ginny couldn't help but smile before she left.

The portrait of this Harold fellow was still asleep, and Ginny thought about waking him and asking him more questions, but she figured she could still do that after she found some answers on her own.

Knowing that no one was home, Ginny walked all over the manor. She inspected the kitchens, living and dining rooms, about a hundred bathrooms, and even the basement. It was clear that no one really lived there anymore, and Ginny was finding more questions than answers. She started on the other floors, checking room after room for anything suspicious, any clue that would tell her what were the Parkinsons hiding. She sighed heavily when she entered another room completely dressed in pink, and had to resist the urge to vomit as she went through what looked like Pansy's teenage belongings. There were boxes upon boxes of makeup and jewelry as well as at least three closets that Ginny didn't suspect would contain anything suspicious, but she checked them out anyway.

Nothing but expensive clothes.

She was about to leave the room when something moving caught her attention, and her heart raced before she realized it was just a photograph. It was on a nice frame and hanging right next to the door, as if with the intention to see it every time you were walking out. Ginny stopped in front of it, curious to see what sort of memory teenage Pansy wanted to keep.

In the photograph, Pansy sat in what Ginny guessed was the Slytherin common room. Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode sat to her right, and Tracey Davis to her left, their arms hooked together. Standing up behind them were Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle. All the boys looked pretty smug, and the girls were smiling. Ginny had never seen Pansy look so happy, and she could almost hear her giggly laugh if she tried. Davis looked from Pansy to the camera and back again with a look that seemed familiar to Ginny.

If she didn't know any better, she'd say the girl fancied Pansy.

Ginny shook her head, because this was hardly the time to think about old school gossip.

After some more futile searches, Ginny finally found the library. She knew Hermione would have told her to look there first before the rest of the house, but Ginny was hoping to find something incriminating before having to go through dozens of old books and potentially finding nothing.

The library was not as big as she had imagined it, but it still had hundreds of books, maybe thousands. This was going to take a while, even with Hermione's extensive list of books to be on the lookout for.

Luckily, Hermione being Hermione, she had also come up a long time ago with a spell that helped search a particular word in a book with five hundred pages or less. You just needed to point your wand at the book and say 'sicitor'.

"Sicitor horcrux," Ginny said as her wand poked the first suspicious book she could find.

She waited, but nothing happened, so she put the book back in place and continued browsing to see if she could recognize any of the names from Hermione's list or if it seemed like the type of book that'd talk about horcruxes. One hour passed. And then another. And Ginny was running out of hope and patience, but there were still a couple of bookshelves left, and she hadn't broken into this literally forsaken manor not to finish her job.

She pulled out a whole row of books and placed them on a nearby table. Most of them had the Parkinson family crest burnt on the leather under the book's name, and Ginny couldn't believe she was still surprised by pureblood's pretentiousness.

"Sicitor horcrux," Ginny repeated in a bored voice, her wand pointed at the first book of the row. She quickly flicked her wrist to point at the next book, when suddenly her heart stopped. The book had opened on its own, the front cover falling over the book next to it, and Ginny tried to remain calm as the pages started flipping rapidly, but her chest was filled with excitement and fear all at once.

Finally, the book stopped almost halfway through. Ginny knew she had to read the pages in front of her to find the word, as Hermione's spell wasn't, in her words, 'quite as precise as I want it to be'.

Ginny thought it was brilliant and would have saved her hundreds of hours when studying, and right now she felt as though it was the most useful spell ever invented, right after the bat-bogey hex.

"Horcrux," she whispered as she read the word and not much else. This was all the evidence she needed and she would take it straight to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Ginny closed the book and stuffed it in her bag before levitating the others back to their shelves.

She had intended to leave the same way she came in, through the window, but seeing that no one was in the house, she could use the front door and then go around the back to return her rock ladder and repair the ward. She walked by many portraits and gave them all cheeky smiles which left them confused, and if she had remembered how to get back to the corridor where the portrait of Pansy's fat great-grandma was, she would have done it just to rub her success in her face.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a faint whooshing sound. She thought it sounded like the fireplace, and she didn't know whether to run for it, or catch whoever it was in the act. After all she had in her possession proof that the Parkinsons might be implicated in something bad.

Before she could truly think about the consequences, Ginny sprinted towards the noise. Several portraits called out as she sped along the corridors, but she didn't stop. Her wand was tight in her hand, her feet pounding loudly on the parquet floors, and heart pumping at top speed.

The bloody manor was so big and complicated that Ginny was sure she made a couple of wrong turns on her way to the living room, but when she finally saw the door she recognized from before, she ran even faster.

Ginny burst into the room gasping for air, her eyes landing immediately on the fireplace. The small cloud of soot still hadn't settled, the bowl of floo powder was turned upside down on the floor, and the unsettling feeling of another presence still hung on the air.

But they had already gone.

.

Harry had no idea what to expect. Clearly nothing good, as Malfoy had so adamantly refused to let the Ministry search his home. But things with Malfoy had always been so complicated that this could either end in just a few small unpleasantries, or in a full blown battle.

"What are you doing?" Hermione's voice came from the door of the bathroom and Harry flinched, almost cutting himself with the razor he was holding.

"Shaving?" Harry answered, lowering the razor and looking at Hermione through the mirror.

She frowned. "Why? I thought you liked the beard."

Harry reached up to touch the facial hair he had not shaved in weeks and shrugged. Truthfully, he did like the way he looked with a moderate beard. The stubble made him look too old, and clean shaven a bit too young. He thought he had found a good middle ground, but then he started thinking about meeting Malfoy and imagined what sort of things he'd say about Harry's messy, careless looks.

He knew he shouldn't care about what Malfoy thought, but his old enemyhad always looked so elegant and put-together that Harry…

Bloody hell, the bastard was already messing with his head and he hadn't even seen him yet.

"Forget it," Harry said and dropped the razor on the sink. "Let's go."

He grabbed a towel and dried off his face before passing Hermione on the doorway, who gave him an amused smile despite his moodiness.

Seeing Malfoy Manor again did nothing to calm Harry. He felt a deep disgust just at the sight of the ostentatious entrance, with tree sculptures in the shape of various magical creatures decorating the edge of the path leading to the front door. There were no wards placed anywhere near the manor, in fact, everything seemed to be so nice and welcoming that Harry got chills.

"Merlin, I'd forgotten about the peacocks," Hermione whispered as they passed by a couple of the birds strutting through the bed of flowers.

"This place is ridiculous," Harry muttered and Hermione nodded.

"Indeed." She climbed the steps leading to the main door, en enormous block of intricately carved wood, and in the middle, an heavy iron knocker in the shape of the Malfoy crest.

Harry felt sick.

Hermione inhaled and Harry turned to look at her. Since he had been so wrapped up in his own head, he hadn't really noticed her. She was holding her hair back with two hairpins and she also was wearing earrings. He knew it wasn't much, but it was still a big difference from the usual frazzled, stressed out Hermione who barely ever bother with a hair tie when she was hard at work. Harry would have thought that she'd consider what they were doing work.

Before he had any more time to think about it, she knocked the door three times. There was a tense silence in which they both held their breath.

There was a click and the door opened a small fraction, but there didn't seem to be anyone there. Another small sound made Harry look down, and he was not surprised to find a small house-elf there. The big round eyes looked up at them with a mixture of fear and shock, and Harry was briefly and painfully reminded of Dobby.

"Hello," Hermione started, but as soon as she spoke the house-elf shut the door with a bang.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with confusion.

"You think he recognized us?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "I've never seen that house-elf before."

Hermione sighed and knocked again, harder this time. "I can't believe they're so blasé about ignoring us."

They waited for a couple of minutes, but it was clear that no one intended to answer.

Harry grabbed the ridiculous knocker and rapped the door a few more times.

To his surprise, and Hermione's, there was a sound behind the door and it opened again, just as slightly as before.

But this time, Malfoy stood there.

Harry guessed Hermione was just as taken aback as him to say anything, because they merely looked at Malfoy as he looked back at them. They could only see part of his face, but he looked very similar to what Harry remembered. It had been a while since Malfoy appeared on the papers, apparently he spent most of his time in his manor, but he was just as pale and pointy as always.

The uncomfortable silence made the moment last much longer in Harry's mind, but before he could react, Malfoy slammed the door in their faces.

Hermione scoffed in indignation. "How rude!"

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, already losing his patience after just a split second of being face to face with the ferret. "We need to talk to you now!"

"Do you really think he's going to do what we say?" Hermione asked, her shoulders slumping. "Let's go back to the Ministry and talk to Kingsley."

"No." Harry rapped on the door again. "This is ridiculous, we came all the way here and we know they're inside!"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and they waited for a while more, Harry still knocking furiously on the door. He didn't care if Lucius or Narcissa or the bloody ghost of Malfoy Manor showed up next, he was going to make them listen.

"Open the bloody door!"

Just when he was about to either give up or blow up the door, it opened again. Harry was tempted to put his foot in to stop whoever it was this time to close it, but he thought that couldn't end well.

It was Malfoy again, this time holding the door open so his entire body was visible, and looking significantly more pissed off than before.

"Would you shut your damn mouth, Potter?!" he said angrily, though not loudly.

Harry bit his tongue and narrowed his eyes.

"Malfoy, don't close the door," Hermione rushed. "We just need to talk!"

"I know perfectly well what you want to talk about." Malfoy leaned a little more into the light and Harry realized just how dark the inside of the manor seemed. "And I already gave my answer."

He went to close again, but Harry stopped him, his hand on the door right next to Malfoy's face. Malfoy's grey eyes glanced at Harry's hand for a moment before settling on him. His face was white and dangerous, but Harry wouldn't be intimidated.

"Get your  _fucking_  hand off my property."

Harry didn't skip a beat. "If you don't consent to a search now, it will be worse later. They'll issue a search order signed by the Minister himself. There will be Aurors in your home. The press will surely find out and even the things you're  _not_  hiding will be on the public eye."

Harry was  _sure_  he saw Malfoy trying to keep himself from reacting when Harry mentioned the press, and he seemed to be grinding his teeth slightly.

"Is that really what you want?" Harry finished, his voice a lot softer than before.

Harry's question floated in the air for a few seconds, he and Malfoy not breaking eye contact. Finally, Malfoy turned to look at Hermione, almost for confirmation that what Harry said was true. Hermione held his gaze firmly and then Malfoy seemed to be having an internal struggle.

He opened the door a little more, making Harry remove his hand as he and Hermione jumped back in alert. Malfoy stepped out and held the door almost closed behind him, looking more worried-serious instead of murderous-serious. Harry counted this a a win.

He was taller than Harry remembered, but most likely because in his mind he liked to pretend Malfoy wasn't taller than him, but he was. He was dressed in black robes, but Harry couldn't help but notice that they didn't look quite as sharp as usual. They were wrinkled in places and they didn't seem entirely clean. "Does it have to be today?" Malfoy looked like it was physically hurting him to speak.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry didn't want to discuss it in front of Malfoy, but he was sure a compromise could be made, as long as it was on their terms.

Malfoy clearly sensed that they weren't sure about this, so he spoke again. "It can't be today, alright? And if you continue to force me I will publicly announce that the Auror department was harassing me when I was trying to cooperate."

Hermione scoffed. "We're not Aurors."

"I don't care." Malfoy narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at them. "You lot can't come here and demand to inspect people's homes without a reason just because you're famous or whatever."

"We do have a reason," Hermione told him dryly, and sensing that she was about to argue and make things more difficult, Harry interrupted her.

"We'll do it tomorrow, then."

Hermione turned to look at Harry with wide eyes while Malfoy's anger seemed to deflate a bit.

"Wait Harry," Hermione said quickly, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the steps. Malfoy looked angry again.

When they were out of his earshot, Hermione gaped at Harry. "What are you doing?"

"If we get him to agree, even if it is tomorrow, it'll be much faster than waiting for Kingsley's permission!" Harry said, not understanding why Hermione didn't see this.

"Yes, but if he knows we're coming tomorrow, then he'll have time to hide things he doesn't want us to see, or even flee!"

Harry hadn't thought about that. "What if we contact the transportation department? They'll be able to keep an eye on the ways in and out of the house in case they try to escape." Hermione gave him an skeptical look. "I'm betting Kingsley would prefer that rather than picking a fight with the Malfoys and involving the press and everything."

Hermione slumped her shoulders. "I don't know… It seems risky."

Harry absentmindedly pushed back a strand of hair that the wind had blown in Hermione's face. "I think he's ready to make this a million times harder if we don't negotiate."

"Fine," she said with a side glance at Malfoy. "But  _you_  have to talk to Kingsley."

"Well?" Malfoy snapped as they climbed back up the entrance, his arms folded over his chest.

Hermione sighed and then her eyes hardened and she rose herself to her full height. "Tomorrow. Nine a.m. You let us inspect the entire manor. You don't object. You don't call the press. If you leave, we still enter. If you try to hide something from us, we take it. If you mess with us, we mess with you."

Harry felt a chill wanting to run down his spine, but he fought it for the sake of not evidencing his awe for Hermione in front of Malfoy.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed even more, if that was possible, just two silvery pale slits staring at Hermione intently. "You don't inspect anything if I'm not there. I will be present every step you take. If you behave, I won't call the press. I won't leave because I  _know_  you creeps will be watching me now. You will ask  _nicely_ , if you need to take anything." Malfoy took a smell step towards them, his eyes shifting between Harry and Hermione with disdain. "If you mess with me or my family, you will regret it deeply."

Before they could react, Malfoy had spun around and stepped back into his home. "Nine thirty a.m. It's a fucking Sunday."

With a loud slam of the door, he was gone.

.

Ron paced back and forth in front of the fireplace of 12 Gimmauld Place, not believing his sister.

"You broke  _into_  Parkinson Manor?" he repeated her words back at her. Ginny nodded not that guiltily. "They weren't home and you decided that the best thing to do was to break into their house?"

Ginny shrugged. "I thought they were ignoring me."

Ron spread out his arms in disbelief. "That still doesn't mean you ought to get past their wards and what? Break down the door?"

"Obviously not, I climbed through a window," she explained rather proudly and smiled.

"Obviously." Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So were they ignoring you?"

Ginny avoided his eyes. "No. They weren't home."

Ron was  _fucked_. If Willsburg found out about this, they could kick Ginny off the taskforce, or even worse. "You need to walk me through everything that happened there."

Ginny stood up from the sofa. "Fine. But let's do it while you make lunch, I'm starving."

She walked away and Ron followed reluctantly. After leaving Hogwarts and moving out of the Burrow Ron had really gotten into cooking. Hermione had taught him some basics and then he had started experimenting during his free time. He found out it really relaxed him and made him feel accomplished after finishing a dish, and he was quite good if he said so himself. Of course, he wasn't just head of the horcrux taskforce, he had also become the unofficial cook of all meals.

But Ron didn't usually complain because it gave him time to think.

Ginny told him all about the break in, as well as the things she saw along the way in the manor. It did seem pretty suspicious that the place appeared abandoned, they should look into that.

"Anyway, all that time spent in the library payed off because I found a book that mentions horcruxes," she said as she devoured a piece of bread. "It's upstairs on my bag."

"Good." Ron nodded and finished seasoning the fried rice. "At least something good came out of it. Might be nothing though, Hermione figures a lot of these old pureblood families will have books like that."

"Come on, the Parkinsons have guilty written all over them. They left their expensive manor but don't want people to know; because the outside is absolutely spotless, also have dark books in their library, and you should have seen Pansy's smug face in the pictures I saw."

Ron frowned as he placed a plate in front of Ginny. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't, I'd just forgotten how ridiculous she looks."

They ate silently for a while, Ron trying to think about how to proceed next. "I can't believe you almost did what Kingsley was fearing the most."

"What's that?" she asked and got another forkful into her mouth. She seemed to like it.

"Create an scandal. But at least we got lucky and nobody but us knows you were there. And I doubt they're going to notice one old book missing." He wondered if Hermione would be able to find anything meaningful in that book.

Ginny placed down her fork and looked up at Ron with a grimace.

"What? Is it too spicy?"

Ginny shook her head. "About that 'nobody knows I was there' bit…"

Ron put down his own fork as well, giving his full attention to Ginny. What else could she have possibly done?

"When I was about to leave I heard a noise, and the fireplace looked like it'd just been used…" she trailed off. "I'm pretty certain someone walked in and then left."

Ron's mouth dropped. "But did they see you?"

"No, no. They might have noticed someone was there, but they left too quickly." Ron had the idea that the story wasn't over, because Ginny kept looking more guilty by the second. He stared at her impatiently. "And I might have spoken to a portrait."

Ron dropped his head in his hands. Ginny was going to be the end of him. All this careful work and planning for her to fuck it up with one reckless decision. "Why in the  _world_  would you do that?!" he asked with more anger than he intended.

"Because portraits know things about the people that live in the house!" Ginny was getting exasperated too. "She could have known where the Parkinsons were!"

"But she didn't, did she?" Ron couldn't believe his sister was his biggest problem. "And now the Parkinsons know someone broke into their home and if they ask the portraits, they'll identify you, meaning we are fucked!"

"Could you stop acting like everything is my fault?!" Ginny slammed her hand down on the table. "It wasn't me who kept us from legally searching these houses, or who had a million rules about what can and can't be done when searching for literal pieces of soul!"

Ron and Ginny were in a stare-down and he didn't like that he was losing. "If we don't follow the rules they'll kick you out. They'll kick  _me_  out."

"And would that be so terrible? You didn't need the Aurors or the Ministry the last time you went horcrux hunting, in fact, the Ministry was actively working against you and all of us!" Ginny leaned back in her chair and shook her head like she was disappointed in Ron.

Ron knew Ginny didn't like the Aurors, but he had no idea how much she didn't understand  _him._ "That's why I even got into the Aurors, Ginny. That's why Harry is into Education and why Hermione will one day become Minister for Magic; so we could change the way things work and maybe one day when things went to shit again people could trust that the Ministry has their backs."

Ginny's face softened, but only a little. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You sound like Percy."

Ron smiled. "I know. I almost quit when I realized it." He threw a small piece of bread at Ginny and got a half smile out of her. "I'm sorry alright? I know it's not all your fault. I hate bureaucracy too, but I have to keep climbing the ladder if I want to change it."

"Now you sound like Hermione." Ginny threw a bigger piece of bread back. "I'm sorry too. I don't want you to get I'm trouble."

They continued to eat calmly after that, Ron racking his brains for a solution that wouldn't end up with Ginny out of the team.

"Where is Hermione, by the way? And Harry?" Ginny asked when she finished her plate.

"Having lunch at the Ministry. They said they had work to do after." Ron checked his watch and sprang to his feet. "Shit. I'm late to meet Zabini."

"I thought you'd go this morning too?" Ginny levitated both their empty plates into the sink and spelled them to wash themselves.

"No, Willsburg called me to go over some paperwork, so I had to postpone it. Hopefully I can convince him to let us inspect Zabini Manor like Harry and Hermione did. They're going over tomorrow."

Ginny gasped. "Really? Then I know what I'm doing tomorrow!" she clapped her hands together and grinned.

An idea popped into Ron's head. "No you don't." Ron pointed a finger at her. "You already had your fun today. Now you need to do something different."

Ginny looked disappointed. "What?"

"You need to find out where the Parkinsons are. If we find them before they find out it was you in their house, we can maybe arrange things between us." Ron thought Ginny would be perfect for this job, but he wasn't about to tell her that now.

"Does that mean I need to go to the Ministry again?" Ginny groaned.

"Yes. But you can't let anyone know what you're doing." If Kingsley found out why they were tracking the Parkinsons, it was goodbye to Ginny.

"I'm liking this more…"

"You need to talk to the right people, get information out of them somehow, maybe even go undercover."

She nodded. "I love it. And once I find them, I fight them until they tell me everything!"

"Or," Ron said in a calm voice. "You find out what they're hiding. They're clearly doing something they're not supposed to if they want people to think they're still home even though it's abandoned. Once you do that, we can use it as leverage so they don't rat you out about breaking into their home."

Ginny looked skeptical. "What if they talk to the portrait before I can find out what they're doing?"

"That's why you need to start right now." Ron threw his coat over his shoulder and patted his pocket for his wand. "When I get back I'll give you the names of a few people in the Transportation Department you can talk to. Meanwhile, maybe call Lavender or someone who's up to date with the latest gossip."

Ron grinned, knowing how much Ginny hated gossip.

She pretended to gag and then sighed. "Ask Zabini if he knows anything about Parkinson."

"Yeah, I'm sure Blaise Zabini will be  _delighted_ to speak with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay everyone! been having a lot of work, but at least the chapter's kinda long! anyway, i hope you like it, tell me your theories or thoughts on this one! <3


	6. Six

**Chapter Six**

"I'm delighted to speak with you, Ronald."

Ron squinted to make sure the light from the sun wasn't playing tricks on him and it really was Blaise Zabini who had spoken.

He hadn't even needed to come near the house, as soon as he saw the gates, they opened for him and Zabini was waiting near the entrance, wearing light blue robes and an equally bright smile. The man always presented himself in the best way possible, Merlin forbid that someone saw him as anything less than absolutely flawless. Meanwhile, Ron had a big oil stain on his shirt he had forgotten to remove after cooking.

Ron had learnt a lot about politics in the last few years, and he was very familiar with the polite show everybody was supposed to participate on. "Nice to see you again, Zabini," Ron said as he shook the other man's hand. "Sorry but, how did you know I was coming?"

Zabini chuckled. "Oh well you see, I was away on a business trip when the letter from the Ministry arrived, it wasn't until this morning that I got a chance to read it and by then it was too late to reply, so I assumed I would be getting a direct visit soon."

Ron had come here with the idea not to show any weaknesses in case things went sideways, but he was so relieved that Zabini wasn't being difficult that he smiled.

"Would you like to come in? I was about to have tea," Zabini offered, stepping out of the way so Ron could walk inside the manor.

"Oh, I don't mean to impose," said Ron in his most polite tone. His mum would be proud of him. "I just wanted to discuss the possibilities of doing an inspection of your home. You know, for protocol reasons."

This time there was something different with Zabini's smile, like an edge that wasn't there before. "Sure. Well, we can still discuss it with a nice cup of tea, right?"

Ron wasn't sure he actually agreed to this, but the next thing he knew he was being led through the massive halls of Zabini Manor, walking deeper and deeper and trying to pay attention in case he saw anything suspicious without being too obvious. But Zabini wouldn't be walking him around his home if he had something to hide, right?

And he certainly tried to tell him as much as he served tea and tiny sandwiches in his back garden.

"I've been thinking about hosting the next Annual Auror's Ball right here in the manor. The ball room has just been renovated." Zabini poured Ron some very fragrant flowery tea. "Sugar?"

Ron nodded and Zabini took a couple of sugar cubes with his fingers and dropped them in his cup.

"Thank you. And that would be very generous of you. The last ball was sure a success."

Zabini gave Ron a mischievous grin that that him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Oh yes, I remember you quite enjoyed the champagne, didn't you?"

Ron tried to hide his embarrassment with laughter, but in all truthfulness that was the best champagne he tried, he usually didn't care for the stuff, and he more or less went overboard. "Hopefully this year I'll enjoy it less."

"Nonsense, that's what parties are for. You could wear those silver-blue robes again." Zabini took a sip of his tea, never taking his eyes off Ron. It was a bit unnerving, but Ron had expected someone much colder and more complicated to deal with, so he didn't let it bother him.

"You remember what I was wearing?" Ron asked, impressed. "I barely remember."

Zabini shrugged. "I'm observant."

When there was a second of silence, Ron took advantage before Zabini started another friendly conversation. "Listen, I'm sorry to have to do this, but we're having some issues at the Ministry and it's importa we conduct these searches. You don't mind, right?"

"Not at all! Just let me know when you'd like to do it. I can have lunch ready." Zabini snapped his fingers and Ron's tea reheated itself.

"How about now?" Ron asked, hoping he wouldn't try to negotiate like Malfoy.

Zabini seemed slightly taken aback. "I assumed you would bring a team of Aurors to conduct the search."

Ron shook his head. "No. Just me."

Blaise seemed to relax slightly as he smiled again. "Even better, then."

.

It felt less like a search and more like a house tour with Zabini pointing out the artwork or suggesting they visit the indoor pool, but Ron had a feeling that even if Zabini wasn't there gracefully answering each of Ron's questions about his whereabouts or knowledge on suspicious behavior, everything would still be okay. There weren't any dark objects to be found, no suspicious behavior from the house elves, not even a dark arts section in the library.

"My mother was never a fan of black witchcraft, nor of reading," Zabini mentioned while Ron used Hermione's spell on some of the books. "Most of these are mine."

Ron nodded. "Where is Mrs. Zabini? I thought she'd be around."

"Unfortunately she's away on a business trip. I'm trying to convince another company in France to let us buy them out, but sometimes she's far more successful at persuading old rich wizards than I am." Zabini dusted an old book and placed it back on the shelf carefully. "I'm better with young wizards."

For some strange reason Ron felt his face heat up. "I'll just… check out this last shelf and be done."

Zabini nodded. "Take all the time you need."

Ron thought he'd at least find one book mentioning horcruxes, even as a side subject, but the Zabini household was nearly as innocent as his own. Well, except for the blatant manipulative business tactics but Ron wasn't about to fixate on that.

They walked out into the entrance hall again while Ron checked his notes for any information or questions he might have forgotten. "Oh yes, I need to know about other properties you may have."

Zabini quirked a dark eyebrow. "In Britain or elsewhere?"

Ron shook his head and smiled. How rich could these people be? "Just Britain for now."

"Well there's the factory on the outskirts which is under my name. I've also got a flat downtown." Zabini scratched his chin as if in thought and Ron followed the movement in the silence, until it became too long and he realized he was still staring at Zabini's chin. When he looked up, Zabini was looking up at him, no smile or smirk this time, just his dark eyes very intent. Ron hadn't realized he was taller than Zabini.

He cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes. "Right, so… is there any chance I could go take a look around there?"

"Just let me know when," Zabini answered, his voice suddenly lower.

Ron mainly wanted to see if the man put up any resistance or had any strange behavior regarding his other properties, but now he thought he really wouldn't mind a trip to the outskirts.

"I'll let you know." Ron tried hard to sound professional but it was difficult not to let Zabini's tone influence his.

"I'll be waiting then." Zabini made no intention to move or show Ron to the exit, so Ron guessed he had to take the lead if he ever wanted to leave.

He took a small step back. "Thank you for your time Zabini."

Blaise stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking Ron to the door. "It was my pleasure. I hope you found everything in order and… I'm sure I could be of assistance in this case if you needed it."

Ron hadn't expected that, he usually wasn't offered assistance from the suspects, but this entire situation with Zabini had been out of the ordinary.

He chuckled. "I'll keep it in mind, Zabini."

Zabini held the door open for him. "Call me Blaise."

Next time, Ron will.

.

Hermione hated everything about that day so far. It was nine in the morning, raining, and she was standing outside of Malfoy Manor for the second day in a row. She had no idea how she was going to get through this without cursing Malfoy's bits off.

"Should we wait until it's half past mine?" Harry asked.

"No." Hermione gathered her hair into a ponytail. "He knew we wouldn't come at half past nine. He's ready for us."

And indeed, as soon as they stepped through the open gate, Hermione saw a tall figure with a tuff of white hair and all dressed in black. He was staring right at them, but then he started looking around, as if expecting to see more people there. Hermione didn't blame him, as just minutes before they'd been dozens of Aurors surrounding the grounds of the house and guarding the Malfoys. All the ways in and out of the manor had also been watched all night, and Malfoy probably knew it. He looked more furious than usual.

"Let's get this over with," Hermione said and marched forward.

As they walked through the gardens leading to the house, Hermione twirled her wand in her fingers as discreetly as she could and cast a silent search spell.

"What are you doing?" Harry murmured with a concerned expression.

"Seeing if they hid something suspicious around here. The spell will alert me if there's something that doesn't belong."

Apparently the grounds were clean, which was still impressive considering all the dark magic this manor had seen.

Hermione stuffed her wand back in her pocket and tried to put on a more professional face as they climbed up the steps.

"Good morning Malfoy," Harry said politely, to which Malfoy answered by sneering and turning on his heel to walk inside the manor.

Harry sighed and gave Hermione and tired look before they followed.

Although Hermione could still tell she was inside Malfoy Manor, it looked very different from what she remembered. Granted, she hadn't been to every part of it, but the all-around style and feeling had been completely changed. Most windows were open so everything was brightly illuminated, giving the feeling of a grand royal mansion instead of the elegant haunted house she remembered. Everything was spotless, which was obvious thanks to the house-elves, but she was sure they weren't the ones who decided to paint the walls eggshell white or put fresh flowers on every corner.

"This is the entrance," said Malfoy all of the sudden, stopping in the middle of a large hall. "The gardens are out back, kitchens on the left, three floors and an attic upstairs, dining hall and ballroom through the right," he stopped to take a breath. "And the dungeons."

Hermione noticed Harry tensed up.

"Where are your parents?" Hermione asked boldly, not wanting Malfoy to have the upper hand even for a second.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Sleeping. My mother was worried sick all night since she found out there are  _Aurors_  investigating us," he said through gritted teeth as he looked particularly at Harry.

Hermione couldn't  _believe_  he was trying to use Narcissa Malfoy to guilt them. To make Harry feel bad because he knew what his mother had done to save Harry's life.

"We're not Aurors," Harry replied, and Hermione could tell Malfoy had successfully struck a chord with him. "And we don't like this any more than you do. Do you think I want to spend my day coming  _here_  of all places? Being with  _you_  of all people?"

Malfoy took a menacing step towards Harry and Harry moved his arm to pull out his wand but Hermione stopped him. "We wouldn't come here if it wasn't necessary. And the less you fight us the faster we'll be able to leave."

Malfoy's eyes switched to her and he held her gaze for a moment before stepping back. "So? What are you waiting? Start inspecting my house or whatever it is they pay you to do."

Hermione took a deep breath and turned to Harry, who looked like he was biting his tongue. "Library first."

Harry nodded and Malfoy rolled his eyes as he started leading them to the stairs. "What a surprise," he muttered not that quietly.

The Malfoy household was strangely quiet. The elves must have been instructed to keep to themselves while Harry and Hermione were there, because Hermione couldn't hear a peep of someone cleaning or smell food being prepared. She imagined that Sundays were usually 'fancy brunch day' and in normal occasions the three Malfoys would be eating smoked salmon next to one of the fountains in the garden.

"Is the library generally used a lot?" Hermione asked, remembering the list of questions she had prepared.

"Surprised other people know how to read too?" Malfoy asked, not bothering to look at her as they continued down a long corridor.

Hermione sighed and was about to tell Malfoy to at least  _try_  to act somewhat professionally, but he spoke again.

"I use it the most," he said simply. Hermione could work with that.

They reached a door at the end of the hall and Malfoy pushed it open without spells or protections, which was a good sign considering the magnitude of the library on the other side. Hermione tried not to gape, but the place was outstanding, and she had been to every single wizarding library in Britain.

But as always, purebloods kept the best for themselves.

As Harry and Hermione walked around surveying the shelves looking for something suspicious, Malfoy moved aimlessly, keeping an eye on them and looking like he'd rather be dead. Hermione had a million questions about all these books, but she had to keep it as professional as possible.

"Do you use the library for work or just leisure?" Harry asked when Malfoy was getting too close to him.

"Is that pertinent?" Malfoy asked skeptically.

Hermione peeked her head from around the shelves to look at him sternly and Malfoy sighed.

"Leisure. Will I have to give you all the details of my personal life? Because I don't recall anyone informing me that  _I_  was under investigation." Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

"Would you prefer to wait until you are to answer?" Harry retorted, his eyes hardening behind his glasses.

Malfoy balled his hands into fists and his face started reddening. "Fuck you, Potter," he spat. "You people come into our houses demanding entrance, treating us like criminals and won't even bother to tell us what the fuck are we supposed to have done?  _Fuck you._ Both of you."

" _Our_ houses?" Hermione repeated back to him, ignoring all the insults. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid, Granger. You think me and my friends don't talk? Blaise told me Weasley was there yesterday and you were also at Theo's the other day."

"We didn't treat Nott like a criminal, and he actually invited us to search his home," Hermione explained, annoyed that Malfoy was acting like they were victims.

"And to a party too," Harry added.

Malfoy scoffed. "That's because Theo's a drunk." He stepped closer to Hermione. "I'd like to see  _you_  being on the other end of this; with Ministry employees entering your home asking to inspect everything, not telling you why they need to know what you do with your time, and clearly hiding that something important has happened but they're forbidden to speak about it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him trying to think of something that would convincingly say that she would be okay with that scenario, even though she knew she wouldn't be. It was a terrible way of doing things and she hated letting the press dictate the doings of the Ministry, but when something as dangerous as horcruxes was concerned, her priorities were very clear.

"You're right," Hermione told him, the words feeling strange to her own ears. "This isn't ideal by any definition, but you said so yourself, we can't tell you what this is about. This arrangement is mutually beneficial because neither of us wants the press."

Malfoy glowered in a way that was very reminiscent of their Hogwarts years. "I'm going to find out what this is all about."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright Malfoy, if you solve this mystery before us let us know."

Malfoy pulled out his wand, and both Harry and Hermione stepped back, ready to draw theirs until they realized Malfoy was just summoning a chair. He smiled satisfied and sat down, looking like a teacher surveying his students. Hermione shook her head disapprovingly and took off in a different direction.

They could have spent days in that library looking for books about horcruxes, and Hermione personally could have spent weeks just selecting the ones she would love to have herself, but since they only had a couple of hours they'd have to go with their guts and search the most suspicious ones. Hermione could hear Harry muttering 'sicitor' every now and then, and she hoped he was making sure Malfoy wasn't lurking nearby or he'd hear what they were looking for.

It was about an hour later that Harry came up to her, ready to call the book search off. He had found one book referencing horcruxes and Hermione had three more, but a mere mention of it wasn't enough at all. The person who was behind this would have needed a chapter-long explanation with the whats, whys, and hows of horcruxes.

"These are some of the darkest books I've seen," Harry said with disgust. "If it's not here I doubt it's anywhere else in this library."

Hermione wasn't so sure. What if it was somewhere else and they miss it because they weren't through enough? What if Malfoy knew what they were looking for and hid it really well? What if the book had been destroyed and they were wasting their time?

She had too many doubts about this plan.

"Alright, let's see if we find anything else around the house before we go."

Malfoy was still in the chair when they emerged from the massive rows of bookcases, but Harry and Hermione kept walking past him as if he wasn't there.

"Hey!" he called to them. "You don't go anywhere without me, remember?" He caught up to them and took the lead.

"As if we could forget you're here," muttered Harry.

For another hour they went all over the manor. The ballroom, kitchens and dining room, corridors that went on forever, empty bedrooms and studies, countless bathrooms, and even the greenhouse in the back. Hermione's spells couldn't detect anything dark or out of place anywhere, and strangely, this frightened her. The thought that Malfoy might be the one behind all of this was somewhat comforting, because they knew what they were getting into. But the possibility that something entirely foreign to them was at work here was far more likely and terrifying.

They were walking out yet another bathroom and Hermione was able to recognize some of the scents from the products in there because Malfoy himself was wearing them, something that would haunt her forever, surely.

"I hope this is the last room in this floor," Hermione said tiredly as she reached for the doorknobs of a big double door.

"No!" Malfoy quite literally shouted and  _slapped_ Hermione's hand away. She stared at his panicked face in shock as he slid himself between her and the door, standing far closer to her than she expected him to.

Harry was next to her in a heartbeat. "You know that now we  _have_  to get in there, right?"

"You slapped me!" Hermione said offended as she showed him the back of her hand.

"Well now we're even, aren't we?" Malfoy retorted bitterly.

Harry stepped closer, eyes almost level with Malfoy's, as Malfoy was a bit taller. "What's in there?"

Malfoy tried and failed to shrug casually, it was clear he was acting anxiously. "I'm not hiding anything, my parents are sleeping in there."

Hermione had completely forgotten about Lucius and Narcissa.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other trying to decide what to do. If Malfoy was telling the truth, it'd be uncomfortable and beyond rude to wake up his sleeping parents. But then again, when has Malfoy been known for being truthful? He was definitely nervous about them opening that door.

"We'll be quiet," Hermione told Malfoy. "We just need a quick look around."

"Absolutely not!" Malfoy snapped. "There's no reason for you two to be in my parents bedroom!"

"How do we even know that is in fact your parents bedroom?" Harry asked and Malfoy looked like he was weighing in his options.

"I… you can do homenum revelio, and it will show you that there are two people in there."

Hermione shook her head. "If you're telling the truth then what's the harm in letting us confirm it?"

"Because I don't want you sticking your noses in every single part of my life! Is that too much to ask?!"

It was surprising how much emotion could be heard in Malfoy's voice, which would have gotten Hermione's sympathy if it wasn't for the fact that it meant he has hiding something.

"Quit being so dramatic," Hermione sighed. "Do you really think we're going to-"

Hermione was cut off by a loud banging noise coming from the other side of the door. Harry and Hermione froze, while all the color drained from Draco's face, making him look sickly. Someone banged again and the door shook with the force of it.

"I think they're up," Harry said.

"Draco? Draco! Is that you?" came Narcissa's voice from the other side. She was clearly very distressed, and Hermione felt a pang of guilt thinking about what Draco had said of Narcissa being up all night worrying.

"Yes mother," Draco answered in a rush, looking over his shoulder at the door. "It's me. Go back to sleep, everything's alright."

The door rattled again and now Malfoy's cheeks were red and it looked like he was starting to sweat.

"Draco is your father! I think-" Narcissa's voice broke in a sob. "I think he's dead!"

Hermione gasped and Harry froze, looking highly alarmed. Hermione focused on Malfoy expecting him to break down in front of them, or blast the door open with the sheer force of his grief, but none of that happened. In fact, he seemed to be having no reaction at all.

"No he isn't, mother," he said in a slow, steady voice. "He's okay. He's sleeping."

Narcissa was sobbing harder now. "This is my fault!" she cried. "I forgot to give him his potion!"

"I gave it to him! He's fine!" Draco snapped, desperate and shaking.

"Malfoy, what-" Harry started, his voice soft, but Malfoy gave him a look that would have shut anybody up.

Narcissa fell silent and the air itself seemed to become heavier with dread. "Draco…" her voice was barely above a whisper. "Who's there? Is it…  _Him_?"

A chill ran down Hermione's spine.

Malfoy was still, his brow furrowed as he looked from Harry to Hermione a couple of times as if considering them. When he pulled out his wand, they didn't flinch.

Malfoy spun, pointed his wand at the lock and opened it. Narcissa Malfoy stood there, pale as a ghost, black-stained tears decorating all around her bloodshot eyes, and her blonde hair a mess over her shaking shoulders. She stared wide-eyed at Malfoy and then past him at Harry.

"It's not him, mum," Malfoy spoke slowly to her as he reached for her upper arms. Hermione never thought she'd hear him call Narcissa 'mum'. "Look. It's just Potter. Harry Potter." Malfoy stepped aside a little so Narcissa could look at Harry better.

Narcissa seemed to relax slightly, until her eyes landed on Hermione and she gasped, stepping back in fear.

"She's Hermione Granger," Malfoy said calmly. "You remember her, right? She's here with Potter."

"Wh-why are they here?" she asked stuttering.

Malfoy stepped closer to his mother, looking into her eyes with a serene expression that looked very strange on him. "They're with me. It's okay. They were just leaving." Malfoy looked over his shoulder at them, his face suddenly hardening to its usual unpleasant self. " _Right_?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Go to sleep, mother. I'll wake you up for lunch." Malfoy started walking her back to bed. Hermione had been so focused on Narcissa that she hadn't even looked around the room. It was dark and messy, and she couldn't help but notice that it smelled sort of stale. One side of the bed was empty, but on the other under a heavy-looking blanket Hermione could see some blonde hair peeking out, and she almost didn't want to see Lucius Malfoy, even though this was the less possible threatening way to face him.

"And, and…?" Narcissa babbled.

Malfoy sat her down and pushed her gently back against the pillows. "Father's fine. I promise."

Harry and Hermione watched entranced as Malfoy tucked his mother in, draping layers on blankets on her before pushing her hair out of her face and leaning down to  _kiss_  her forehead.

Hermione thought she must be hallucinating.

As Malfoy strode back towards them, his expression was was hard and stony, and Hermione was far too confused to challenge him with the same kind of look.

He closed the door behind him, towering intimidatingly over Harry and Hermione as he usually liked to do, but they just continued to stare at him curiously. Malfoy cleared his throat. "Had enough?"

Hermione shook herself out of the trance. "Malfoy, what just happened?"

"Your were just leaving, it's what happened," he said and pushed past them, walking fast.

Harry caught up to him while Hermione followed, looking back over her shoulder at the door a few times.

"Are you sure your father is alright?" Harry asked.

They reached the stairs and Malfoy started going down. "What do you care?"

Hermione knew Harry didn't actually care all that much for Lucius Malfoy; Hermione didn't either, but Malfoy seemed awfully nonchalant for someone who had just been told his father was dead.

"And Narcissa?" Harry continued.

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and Harry had to hold onto the railing to keep from tumbling over him. He turned around and looked up at Harry.

"Do  _not_  say my mother's name like you know her,  _Potter_." Malfoy hissed dangerously, pointing a finger at him.

Harry merely sighed and closed his mouth.

Malfoy continued his obvious path to the main entrance, Harry and Hermione trailing behind him and exchanging confused looks. No matter what the actual truth about his parents was, it was clear they weren't not alright. Malfoy Lucius wasn't dead, but clearly something was off.

"Malfoy," Hermione started when the front door was just a few steps away. "I think your parents should go to St. Mungo's. Or we could have a healer come in and-"

"No!" Malfoy snapped, turning around dramatically. "Stop fucking messing in my life! Just leave!"

He opened the door with a flick of his wand and stared pointedly at them.

Everything that happened had left Hermione with no more will to fight Malfoy anymore. Maybe it was pity, maybe guilt, or something else entirely, but she did as she was told and crossed the threshold. Harry probably shared her feelings, as he did the same.

But Hermione couldn't just leave quietly.

"Malfoy, don't be too stubborn to ask for he-"

He slammed the door in their faces.

.

Ginny had fucked up. There was no way she was getting away with this.

She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced at the flowery dress and mismatched socks.

Luna never really wore mismatched socks. No one would believe it was her.

Ron had told her to find out about the Parkinsons without anyone knowing it was her, so what better way than to go as someone else? Someone inconspicuous, who wouldn't be looked at twice for asking weird questions, who was innocent of breaking into private property.

Someone who wasn't even in the country.

Luna agreed to send Ginny a few locks of her hair without even asking what she needed it for, and that was one of the top ten reasons Ginny considered her her best friend.

Plus, she was so pretty. She didn't mind looking like her for a few hours.

It felt very weird to be in Luna's body, but then again when was something to do with Luna not weird?

She decided not to think about the outfit anymore and put her very, very long blonde hair into a ponytail even though Luna rarely did that, and set off to the Ministry. Aside from the polyjuice, she didn't really have a plan. But someone had to know where Pansy Parkinson and her family were hiding, and who better to ask than the people who controlled all the ins and outs of the magical citizens?

She just hoped she wouldn't run into anyone who could recognize she wasn't Luna.

The Transportation Department was Ginny's first stop, but they were predictably swamped and she didn't know how to bring up the subject without looking suspicious while there were dozens of people trying to get their portkeys registered or their floos installed. She could see that the door to one of the offices had been left open, so she slowly started approaching it in hopes that something in there that would be useful.

"Luna?"

Ginny almost didn't stop, after all she rarely did when someone didn't call her by her name, but the voice was so close that there was no way it wasn't directed at her. Her heart jumped to her throat when she remembered she looked like Luna.

She spun around and found herself face to face with a girl who was both familiar and a stranger to her. She was about the same age as her, and she had definetely gone to Hogwarts, but Ginny couldn't really place her even though her small frame and round black eyes were very familiar. The girl stared at Ginny as if expecting something, and Ginny began to panic inside; this girl obviously knew Luna and if she didn't think of something fast, it would be revealed that she didn't even know her name.

She opened her mouth to greet her, but was thankfully interrupted. "Tracey, wait up!"

Tracey. Ginny had to keep herself from gasping. This was Tracey Davis, Pansy's friend Ginny had seen in the picture the day before, but looking very different now. Her light brown hair was short and spiky, and she had about a dozen earrings and piercings decorating her ears.

"You walk so fast, it's like you're trying to get rid of me!" Lavender Brown panted as she caught up next to Tracey and rested her forearm on Tracey's shoulder. "Oh, hey Luna!"

Luna stared at both of them, confused but also relieved to see someone she actually knew. "Hello."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you," Tracey said with a small shake of the head. "But I caught sight of Luna and thought that if we waited too long, she'll be gone again." She smiled fondly at Lavender. "You need to exercise more."

Lavender scoffed and Tracey turned to look at Ginny again. "We never see you anymore! What are you doing here?"

Ginny had prepared some lies in case she ran into someone like Neville or a member of her family, but she had no idea what sort of relationship Luna had with Tracey Davis of all people, and she could very easily say the wrong thing. "I, um…" She tried to calm herself down, because Luna never spoke nervously. "I needed some new permits. To travel."

Tracey frowned but still smiled. "You should have some to me, silly!"

"The Transportation Department is the  _worst_ ," Lavender groaned, looking around. Some workers behind the counter heard her and gave her nasty looks.

"Let's go to my office, we can have lunch and I'll sort you out in a second," Tracey said, reaching to grab Ginny's shoulder and steer her away.

Ginny didn't move. "Oh no, it's okay. I don't want to be a bother," she laughed a little, hoping it was convincing enough, even though she was sure she had never heard a worse Luna impression in her whole life.

"What bother? Come on what's the good in having contacts if you don't use them? I use my connections to Harry all the time," Lavender said and winked.

Tracey rolled her eyes at her. "Like we really need to drop Potter's name to get into gay clubs."

"You don't complain when it get us into the VIP section, though."

Once again, Ginny barely avoided letting it show as understanding dawned in on her. Lavender and Tracey were together. You'd think Luna would mention it even in passing, but the girl was terrible at gossip.

Lavender suddenly wrapped her hand around Ginny's arm, which felt a lot skinnier than what she was used to, and easily dragged her away as if Ginny was a puppet. Luna could do with some exercises too.

She could tell there was no fighting those two, specially Lavender, so she just went along quietly as they took her to Tracy's office while discussing what they wanted to have for lunch. Ginny had the sense of remembering Luna was vegetarian and chimed in once to remind them, and thankfully they didn't seem to mind her lack of input in the conversation.

"I'll order italian before we spend all afternoon trying to decide and end up ordering that anyway," Lavender said and pulled out and shiny pink mobile phone, which didn't really surprise Ginny.

Finally, Ginny discovered what the hell it was that Tracey did as the elevator chimed, "Sixth floor. Department of International Magical Cooperation." She didn't know how useful that'd be, but at least she was in the company of a former Slytherin. A former Slytherin who used to be in love with Pansy. Though, there was the possibility that they didn't end up on good terms and Tracey knew nothing about the girl.

Tracy's door read 'Communications Liaison' and was very elegantly designed with leather and purple accents everywhere. Something told her Lavender had a lot to do with that.

"So, where are you traveling now?" Tracey asked her after sitting Ginny in the very comfortable chair in front of her desk. "Your European permit must still be in order."

"Oh , I-I," Ginny stuttered. "I am going to Peru. Apparently the grindylows there are very special."

That sounded strange even to her own ears.

"Alright… well it shouldn't be a problem, let me just…" Tracey sat behind her desk and tapped one of the drawers with her wand, which flew open and literally spat a shower of folders and papers in the air. "Shit, I really need to get that fixed."

Ginny helped Tracey pick up the papers and as if things weren't strange enough, Lavender was pouring three glasses of wine.

Tracey stacked everything on her desk. "Let's see, I used to have these alphabetical but now...Mckenzie, Smith, Romero, Adya, Brown," she read and Lavender raised her glass of wine in acknowledgement before placing two glasses in front of Tracey and Ginny. "Vaughn, Parkinson… fuck what a mess."

Ginny's heart started racing. Parkinson. She had Parkinson's file there. But it would be near impossible to take it without her noticing, unless they planned to get  _really_ drunk at lunch.

"Here it is, Lovegood." She opened a folder with Luna's name on it and started reading through some papers, but Ginny could only focus on the one that read 'P. Parkinson'.

"Your friends sure take advantage of your position in the Ministry," Ginny said pointing at the pile of folders. "It looks like the entire house of Slytherin is there."

Not surprisingly, Lavender was the one who answered. "You don't even know. There's nothing a Slytherin likes more than connections."

Tracey looked at Lavender accusingly. "At least they use me for important trips, not so they can floo to the States to get the 'really good cereal'."

Lavender smiled guilty. "I always bring you a gift, though." She sipped her wine and casually sat on Tracey's lap. "But you can't tell me I use it more than Pansy because she lives that luxurious life thanks to you. Did you see that dress she had on the last time we saw her? She looked  _amazing_. And Blaise too is always here."

Ginny straightened up. "Really? They don't look like the traveling kind."

"Are you kidding? Blaise is always moving around the continent. Who even knows how many properties he has?" Lavender sounded like she wished she was the one with all those properties.

"And what about-" Ginny was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Lavender jumped to her feet. "I hope they remembered the garlic bread."

While Lavender opened the door, Tracey leaned in across her desk. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about Pansy."

Ginny blinked at her several times, wondering what the hell to answer to that. Luna didn't like to talk about Pansy? What did that even mean? And why did Tracey knew this while Ginny was completely oblivious?

"Oh, it's okay. I don't mind really," she said in the most relaxed voice she could.

Tracey smiled. "Well, I'm glad you feel better about it, but I'll still tell Lavender to cool it on the subject."

Ginny thought it best not to push it in case it came back to bite her in the ass.

They ate while Tracey filled up the forms for Luna to travel to Peru, which she didn't think Luna would mind that much anyway, but just when she was halfway done with her pasta, Ginny caught sight of her own arm and saw as one by one her freckles started coming back. She almost gasped and dropped her fork, but she managed to pass it off as coughing. She had completely forgotten about the time, and she certainly couldn't pull out her flask full of polyjuice in front of Lavender and Tracey and take a swig, but her hair would start turning red any minute now.

"I need to get going," she said rapidly as she got to her feet.

"But-" Lavender started and Ginny cut her off.

"It's my bowtruckles, I think I've left their cage open. They could be anywhere!" She gathered the papers Tracey had finished while trying to avoid their confused stares, worried they might not be looking into pale eyes anymore. "Thank you so much for the food and the permits and…" she trailed off, thinking about her best friend and feeling a sudden rush of emotion. "For being so nice to me."

Ginny left so fast they didn't even have time to say anything back, but at least she thought she saw them smiling before closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this chapter! I can't wait to show you what's coming next in this story! Please let me know what you guys think and if you have any idea where this is heading I want to hear it! <3


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter! the next one is one of my favourites so far, and its very nearly ready. Please let me know what you think!

**Chapter Seven**

Harry was certain he didn't use to hate this job so much. Sure, there were moments when he rather be at home or playing Quidditch but usually he felt the satisfaction of knowing he was doing the right thing for all the magical children in Britain, and the job didn't actually feel very boring even though most of the time he was signing stuff.

But with everything that had been going on lately, sitting there and doing what he was supposed to do as Head of Education felt like a waste of time, and indeed, very boring.

"I've been trying to schedule this meeting for ages now, Mr. Potter," Linda Webster from Interior told him. "I knew you were a difficult man to reach, but I didn't know just how much."

Harry attempted a sympathetic smile, but all he managed was small grimace.

As Linda went on and on about...Interior stuff, probably, Harry couldn't stop his mind from wandering. He kept thinking about the horcruxes and the different clues they had found. There had to be something they were missing, and for some reason Harry kept coming up with the names and faces of the Slytherins he knew from school, as if the fact that they were enemies from school meant they were still out to get him and fool him. He knew he was being ridiculous; childhood enemies weren't real enemies, and he had probably made the enemosity worst in his head than what it actually was. Only Malfoy had ever been some kind of threat to him, and so many years later he had already mentally forgiven Malfoy for getting himself in that situation.

Besides, it wasn't like the man was in any condition to be participating in an evil plot. He seemed genuinely miserable.

Harry was brought back to his surroundings by his mobile phone beeping. Linda was startled.

"Sorry." Harry's heart had sped up at the sound, and there was no way in hell he wasn't going to see what was happening, even though Hermione had told him it was rude to answer the phone while he was talking with someone.

It was a text from her. Hermione.

_Come to the labs ASAP._

Harry had no idea what 'ASAP' meant, but if Hermione was telling him to go somewhere, he wasn't going to stop and think about anything else.

Harry stood up and threw his coat over his shoulder as he gathered his wand with his other hand, all the while forgetting that Linda was in front of him.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry walked right past her and out of the door, but he regained some of his common sense along the way and stopped at his secretary's desk.

"Tell her I have an emergency, reschedule the meeting, and get her a coffee on me. Thanks."

Just like Linda, his secretary seemed very confused, but she nodded and Harry took off.

All sorts of scenarios kept running through his head. Maybe they had finally succeeded in communicating with the pen horcrux, or in getting the boy's soul out of the music box.

He shuddered. Horcruxes were fucked up.

Hermione met him after the first door, where Harry's security clearance wasn't enough and he needed someone to get him through. She seemed frazzled.

"There's another one," she said without any introduction and began dragging Harry through the security checkpoints. "It's down here with Padma, Ron sent it over with a portkey a few minutes ago. He's still at the scene."

Harry felt cold dread. "Is it…?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's got a big crack in the middle, but it feels...strong."

In effect, the horcrux sitting on the table in front of him, Hermione, and Padma, felt very much like the music box one.

 _Full_.

It was a shield bearing a blue and yellow coat of arms Harry had never seen before, and what's more, the words didn't seem to be in english. The crack Hermione had mentioned ran through the middle, but it wasn't deep enough to break it. Harry wondered if this meant the object was a muggle object like the pocket watch and couldn't handle the magic, meaning the crack would grow bigger and bigger until it couldn't hold up anymore.

"It's from a German magical family," Padma explained, pointing at the words. "Silberbauer. They're one of the wealthiest, most politically influential families of the region."

Hermione nodded. "They're like the Malfoys a few generations ago."

Harry frowned. "So, worst case scenario."

"On the contrary," Padma said. "They're rich and known like the Malfoys, but not evil. They have constantly expressed their acceptance of muggles and muggle-borns, some of them have even married them."

Harry wasn't expecting that, but for some reason it didn't completely reassured him.

"Alright," he said and stepped closer to the horcrux. "Let's see what the German Malfoys got for us."

Ron was sweating from head to toe when he finally arrived to the Ministry. He hoped Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had gotten his text message about meeting him in the lobby of the Ministry, he didn't think he had the energy to go down to the labs right now.

"Ron!"

Ron was so relieved to hear his name he didn't stop to register the source, so he turned around and instead of his friends, he found Blaise there. Ron's heart was already racing, but it jumped unexpectedly and he was pretty sure his face reddened further. "Oh, hi," he said and waved awkwardly as Blaise approached. In another situation Ron wouldn't mind this, but he was in a rush and the others would be there any second now.

"I thought I'd run into you here," Blaise mentioned as he casually leaned in and kissed Ron once on each cheek. Ron tensed up considerably because he definitely didn't appreciate the fact that the first time Blaise did that was when he was dripping in sweat, but he smiled politely nonetheless. "I was about to go up to your office."

"I'm just arriving from a mission, actually, and I-" Ron was about to explain that he had to go when some familiar shapes caught his eye not too far away from Blaise. Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were already there, and he focused briefly on them. They stopped walking towards him when they realized who Ron was talking to, and for some inexplicable reason Ron felt as though he was being caught doing something he oughtn't be doing.

Blaise realized Ron was looking beyond him and looked over his shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from any engagements," he said as he looked back at him. "I just wanted to see if you're still interested in visiting my other properties? Because I'm due for a routine check up and it would honestly be more interesting if an Auror was there trying to frame me for murder."

Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "That's not what I was doing," he defended and Blaise smirked. "But yes, I'm still interested."

Blaise beamed. "Brilliant! You've got one of these, right?" he pulled out a mobile phone from his breast pocket. It didn't surprise Ron at all that someone like him had one.

"Yeah." He fumbled trying to get it out of his robes. He saw that he had an answer from Hermione confirming that they'll meet him in the lobby, so he tried to make it go away so he could give Blaise his number or whatever it was.

Blaise must have noticed he was struggling, because he reached and caught Ron's hand in his own. "Here, let me help. I took a muggle technology seminar in Spain last winter."

He stepped in next to Ron, still cradling Ron's hand holding the phone in his own, and Ron just wished he wasn't still sweating because Blaise smelled like citrus and fresh flowers or whatever it was that they put in those perfumes and it somehow made him more embarrassed about his own state. "You go to contacts, add new, input my number…" Blaise typed in his number with one finger, and then below that his name.

"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing at a symbol Blaise had added next to his name.

"It's a winking face. Sideways." He winked and Ron stopped breathing. "You should really take that seminar next time."

He nodded.

Finally, Blaise stepped away. "So call me. Or text me soon. I'll let you know when we can take that trip."

Ron nodded again. His mouth was very dry. From the mission. From work.

With one last winning smile, Blaise turned around.

Ron took a second to breathe normally and then he walked over to Harry, Ginny, and Hermione. Ginny had a particularly nasty smile while Harry and Hermione shared a brief look and then tried to look innocent.

Ron cleared his throat. "So… This has been a total PR nightmare. The German press already knows, it won't be long until The Daily Prophet gets a hold of the story, and the family is threatening to send German aurors over to handle the case, which would monumentally suck."

"Were there… Bodies?" Harry asked with dread.

Ron sighed. "Two. Both dead needless to say, it was a bloodbath like the first one." He saw Hermione open her mouth and he interrupted her already knowing what she'll ask. "Yes, the creator  _was_  a Silberbauer. Youngest son, barely seventeen years old. And the other one was a muggle girl from a nearby town."

They all nodded gravely. "Okay Ron, we need all the details you can give us," Hermione said.

"Fine, but can we do it over lunch? I haven't eaten all day and I'm exhausted."

"I bet Zabini would buy you lunch." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows and grinned.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Shut up. We were just setting up a  _professiona_ l appointment."

Ginny scoffed. "Ron, you thick walnut. He was flirting with you!"

"No he wasn't." Ginny didn't understand. Blaise was just like that. He'd charm anybody if it got him out of trouble or into money.

"Just look at him!" Ginny said in an exasperated whisper and discreetly pointing behind Ron's back. Ron looked over his shoulder and saw that Blaise was still around, talking on his mobile phone like one of those businessmen in muggle movies. He caught Ron's eye and smiled. "He's still looking at you!"

"Can we go back to the important part, please?" Hermione asked and Ron could see that it was for his benefit too. "And go somewhere more private?"

"Yeah, let's just order in," Harry suggested. "Hermione, can we eat in your office? I don't wanna run into anyone I might have an appointment with."

"Sure."

Ginny looked hesitant. "I don't think I have time, I need to be somewhere." Before anyone could ask where, she continued. "But there's a great Italian place in the Ministry directory, you should look it up."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione frowned.

"Keep me updated, bye!" She waved and then ran away as if she was being chased.

With a strange look and a shrug, the three of them left for Hermione's office, and Ron certainly didn't turn back for one more look at Blaise.

Ginny had been on hold with the hotel for half an hour now. They had said that Luna was in their herb garden and they'd fetch her right away, but now Ginny guessed she wasn't really in the herb garden.

"Hi Gin!" Luna's head popped on the fireplace amongst the flames. "How are you?"

"Hey Luna! How was the herb garden?"

Luna shrugged. "They didn't have that many different things. I promised Neville I'd get him something Finnish but they don't really have any plants."

Luna told Ginny all about the work she's been doing these past few weeks, and in turn, Ginny filled her in on the last developments of the horcrux case, including her adventure with polyjuice.

"Oh so you met Tracey! I like her, she's really nice to me."

"I could see that. Lavender was very nice too, and they got you a permit to go to Peru if you ever feel like it," Ginny chuckled. "But I wanted to ask you something."

Luna smiled. "Of course."

Ginny tried to choose her words carefully, because she wasn't entirely sure what the situation was here. "When I asked about Pansy Parkinson, Tracey said you didn't like to talk about her. Did something happen with her?"

Luna looked ever so slightly uncomfortable, it was almost imperceptible, but knowing her for so long Ginny had caught on these little things of hers. "I don't know her that well, but from what I could see she just wasn't very nice to Tracey. Or Lavender for that matter."

"But she didn't do or say anything to you, or did she?" Ginny was already hunting Pansy Parkinson, but if she had hurt Luna she would not only catch her but stuff her and display her next to her Quidditch trophies.

"No. But she was always taking advantage of Tracey because Tracey still has a soft spot for her, and Pansy knew it." Luna looked thoughtful. "Lavender knows it too, and we have tried to tell Tracey but she refuses to see it."

Ginny nodded. She wasn't surprised Parkinson would do something like that, even to her own friend. "She's such a bitch." She stopped at the look Luna gave her. "Sorry. I know you don't like that word."

"I just don't like to talk to Tracey about it anymore because I don't want to argue. But otherwise I have nothing against Pansy Parkinson."

"Alright, so have you heard anything else about her when you've been with Tracey?" Pansy asked. "Like what she does, where she usually travels or anything at all?"

Luna perked up. "Oh sure. She's usually in Milan, though sometimes she goes to Paris or New York. She's trying to start a clothing line."

Ginny blinked a few times. "How do you know all that? Also, why haven't you told me before?"

"I didn't know you wanted to know about Pansy Parkinson. I also know some things about Zacharias Smith of you're interested."

"No, no… Well maybe later." Ginny couldn't turn down gossip. "But do you know anything else about Pansy?"

Luna thought for a second. "Her company's name is Parks."

Ginny grinned, a plan already forming in her head. "That's all I need. Thank you Luna."

"I'm glad I could help!" She smiled warmly.

"Luna?" A foreign voice called out from Luna's end. "Oh there you are."

The voice belonged to a woman with a bit of an accent, and before Ginny could ask Luna if she had to go, another head popped into the fireplace, making a Ginny flinch.

"Ginny this is Eeva. She's the head of Magical Creatures at the University here," Luna explained.

"Oh hi," Ginny greeted and waved. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Eeva replied with a bright smile. She had long and wavy blond hair and light blue eyes, more of less what Ginny would imagine when she thought of people from Finland. "Are you ready?" She directed the question at Luna.

Luna nodded. "She's taking me on a date tonight," she told Ginny. Eeva giggled.

Ginny stammered unexpectedly. "Oh, okay, that's… Good!" She forced herself to smile because she knew she wasn't doing it. "Have a good time then!"

"Thanks!" Luna and Eeva said at the same time, weirdly enough.

"Love you," Ginny added as an afterthought, but the connection was lost and she wasn't sure if Luna had heard before she was gone.

She shouldn't feel jealous. She certainly had no reason to be, she and Luna were just friends. If anything she should be jealous of Luna having enough time to date while she was too busy to even shower most days, let alone meet someone new.

Suddenly though, something inside her told her she didn't want anyone new anyway.

Ginny got up and dusted off her knees. She didn't have time to dwell on it. She had a plan to complete, a suitcase to pack, and a Pansy Parkinson to catch.

.

Hermione woke up with a terrible headache after a sleepless night. She spent most of it in the Ministry's labs with Padma and a couple other Unspeakables, one of them sent from Germany by the Silberbauers. They had jurisdiction over the shield, specially one belonging to such a renowned family, but once they heard this was about horcruxes, they agreed to let them keep working on it, as there was no doubt they had had more experience with that.

And the results were as bad as they had feared, because now they had another horcrux that by the looks of it was just as  _full_  as the other one, with no idea how to communicate with it, and apparently the perpetrator was now seeking international alliances and they were no closer to catching them. It was bad.

They needed to brainstorm and plan something as soon as possible before more horcruxes popped up and things got out of hand. After yesterday Harry had finally delegated all of his job responsibilities to someone and so had Hermione, so they could dedicate themselves entirely to the case. It was scary and worrying in more ways than one; she feared the kind of things that some people in her department would do in her absence, but she had definitely bigger fish to catch.

"Hey Gin." She waved her friend over when she spotted her waiting in the lobby of the Ministry. It felt like she lived there now.

"You look awful," Ginny commented and straightened the collar of Hermione's shirt. "You know I'm in this case too, no? If you need me to take over some things you should tell me."

Hermione shrugged. "I know. Don't worry though, I'll let you know if it's too much."

Ginny smiled, looking not too refreshed herself. "Is Ron meeting us here or at Harry's?"

"Harry's," Hermione replied as they started heading to Harry's office. The four of them were going to meet to figure out what to do next. "I hope they're ready, I want to start as soon as possible."

As they entered the lift, Hermione noticed that Ginny seemed unusually thoughtful and quiet, even given the circumstances. "So how is it going? Anything new?"

Ginny looked up, distracted. "Well not much." She considered for a moment and then continued, "Although I did find out some interesting gossip if you're interested."

Hermione scoffed. "Do you ask  _everyone_ you tell gossip to if they're interested first?"

"Not really, but I know you look down on it."

"Only if it's damaging to the person!" Hermione was still a curious person. "Let's hear it."

"Alright," a Ginny spoke louder over the voice announcing the different floors. "Remember Tracey Davis? She was a Slytherin in your year." Hermione nodded. "She and Lavender Brown are a couple."

"Really? I had no idea Lavender liked girls."

Ginny frowned. "What? It was so obvious!"

"Okay… So how did you find out?" It would have never occurred to Hermione that such different people could have gotten together; though she didn't know much about Tracey Davis other than she was one of the girls in Pansy's gang.

"Luna's friends with them," Ginny explained. "Oh and apparently, Tracey used to be in love with Pansy."

Hermione was even more surprised by this. "Oh so Pansy likes women too?"

Ginny seemed to be considering this as if she hadn't thought about it at all before now. "I honestly have no idea. In any case she didn't love Tracey back."

Hermione nodded. "You got all of that from Luna? She's terrible at gossip."

"I know," Ginny laughed.

The lift stopped and they walked out into the department of education, when suddenly Hermione was struck with an idea. "But wait, Tracey might know where Pansy is, right?"

"Yeah, I thought about it," Ginny said unsure, looking down at the floor. Hermione rarely saw her so uncertain. "I might have a lead on her but I still need to look into it."

"I hope so, she's the only real suspect we have." Hermione sighed. "Jury's still out on Nott. I know he fits the description given to us but I really don't think it's him."

"I think we shouldn't dismiss him just because he seemed like a human disaster and physically incapable of hurting anyone."

It was true, Nott might have been lying, even if Hermione didn't feel at all like he was. "You're right. We should show up at his house again."

Ginny nodded. "Let's see what Harry and Ron think"

They turned the corner to the hall leading to Harry's office and at the end of the hall someone was leaning on Harry's door. But it wasn't Harry. And it wasn't Ron.

"Is that…" Ginny whispered and then stopped walking, but Hermione was moving even faster.

"Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked up and for a second he seemed to perk up before slumping back down against the door. "Oh it's you. Does Potter never come to work on time? I've been here since eight."

Ginny had caught up and Malfoy eyed her up and down with distaste.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, too many possibilities running through her mind.

"None of your business. Well actually, it is your business too. I just thought it'd be more satisfying to rub it on Potter's face, but if he isn't coming…"

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice echoed across the hall as he and Ron appeared, each looking more surprised than the other.

Malfoy pushed himself off the wall again and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. Hermione was just now realizing that he was more put together than usual, with impeccable dress robes and not a hair out of place. It was just exactly the type of thing he'd do; dress as if he was going to attend an important business meeting when in reality he just wanted to mess with Harry. And with her as well, apparently.

"It figures," Malfoy said pedutanly. "The Golden Boy and his gang never really work around here, they just meet up and hang out while holding their nice, high-paying titles."

Hermione just rolled her eyes, but Harry and Ron stepped forward angrily. It was Ginny who spoke, though.

"Oh, shove it Malfoy. You know damn well I work, and meanwhile I've seen you at my games sitting in the VIP box drinking champagne at ten in the morning."

Malfoy glared at her for a brief second but otherwise ignored her.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, getting in front of Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked and Hermione could literally see how it angered Harry. "This isn't about what I want, Potter. This is about what  _you_ , and you lot," he nodded towards Hermione, Ginny, and Ron. "Want."

"What do we want, then?" Ron chimed in next to Harry.

Malfoy took his time to answer, looking over all of them as if enjoying immensely their attention, as if he wasn't at all afraid to be outnumbered or of pissing off Ministry officials  _at_  the Ministry.

Hermione was about to say something when Malfoy opened his mouth.

"Horcruxes."


	8. Eight

**Chapter Eight**

 

 

_**Four days ago** _

The last candle and the last ice cube in his drink disappeared almost at the same time, and yet Draco didn't feel any less awake than he did five hours ago when he lit them up. The sun would make an appearance any time now.

It was usually difficult to sleep anyway, so Draco was used to this. There were many things to take care of when your parents were out of their mind in a place that was certainly not fit for their state. And even if he didn't have to check up on them, feed them, take them out for a walk once in a while, put them to bed, and deal with whatever situation arose in the moment, it was still difficult to sleep through the not-so-unusual screaming.

This night though, everything was quiet. Not even the owls were making a hoot that would bring some sort of natural feel to the after-hours, and for once Draco didn't mind; he was too busy thinking.

For a while now going to Theo's parties and meet ups was the only thing that gave Draco a break from everything going on at his home, and when those days came he seized them wholeheartedly and enjoyed himself as much as he could. Granted, he would always end up blacking out after telling anyone who'd listen about how much he despised his life, but at least he didn't remember any of it. He should tell Daphne to stop bringing it up.

But last night he didn't party at all, and he barely had two drinks. He spent the entire evening questioning Theo and Blaise, who most certainly didn't want to be talking when they could be drinking, dancing, or hooking up, so it took a while to get everything he wanted out of them. Because if one thing was certain, it was that Draco would make good on his promise to Potter and Granger, and he  _would_ find out what they were up to.

They were looking for a book, that much was clear after they spent most of their time in his house at the library, and it was then confirmed by both Theo and Blaise. It was a dark book, and according to what Theo heard, it was something only a pureblood would have. It had to be something really valuable or very dangerous, but most importantly and remarkable for Draco; it had to be something  _very_  specific. Neither Potter nor Granger were aurors, and the girl Weasley who was a Quidditch player (and a good one, he had to begrudgingly admit) had also been to Theo's place. It seemed to Draco that if this was a normal investigation they would have sent regular aurors but for some reason they needed the Golden Boy and his gang even though only Weasley was a real auror.

Draco had been racking his brain all night coming up with possible explanations, but the only conclusion he had reached was that it  _must_  have something to do with The Dark Lord. He didn't think they would need Potter otherwise, and still; there had been plenty of news about captured or runaway Death Eaters after the war and Potter hadn't been involved in any of them as far as Draco knew. Something extremely particular and dangerous must be happening if ten years after the war Harry Potter had to come to the rescue again.

He downed the last of his firewhiskey.

And yet, the news on the press were as boring and uneventful as Draco's social life.

Draco shook his head softly and sighed. He had reached the self-loathing part of his enhibriation. What came next was never good.

He rose from the armchair and left the empty glass at the desk no one had used in years. He used to have some plans a few years ago, to turn the money the Malfoys had left into something profitable and that he'd enjoy, like buying or even creating his own Quidditch team. He soon realized that even if by lucky chance someone wanted to be associated with his name, he didn't have the time to take care of his increasingly helpless parents and start a business.

And no house-elf could care for them like he did.

Draco left the studio and headed for his bedroom, where he'd surely pass out for the next few hours at least, hoping the morning would bring him clarity.

.

It turns out that when you spend hours drinking and obsessing over your old school enemies, all life brings you is a headache.

At least his parents were sleeping in late so he got a bit more of rest before finally getting up and going to his parent's bedroom to check in on them. But as he brushed his teeth and changed his clothes, he realized how truly quiet it was that morning, which was just as unusual as a quiet night. Draco was starting to get worried that something was wrong.

He rushed out of his room and climbed the stairs two at the time, thinking that maybe he should move closer to them. His heart raced more and more the closer he got to their door and his mind was already supplying horrible scenarios that he was not ready to deal with, so when he finally reached the doorknob he stopped for a second to take a deep breath before opening.

"Good morning, Draco."

He was so relieved it almost made him dizzy.

His parents were sitting up in bed, looking strangely well rested and as if they'd just been having a normal conversation before Draco walked in.

"Good morning," he said unsurely as he walked in further. His mother smiled at him and his father seemed unusually calm.

"Everything alright, son?" Lucius asked upon seeing Draco's expression.

Draco didn't answer, he was too busy watching his father's face for any signs of lying or of being delusional. It was not normal that he'd express concern for Draco, and he just wanted to make sure he knew what he was saying and who he was saying it to.

"Er… Yes?" He approached carefully, first on his mother's side but with his eyes glued to his father. He leaned down to kiss his mother's cheek. Lucius gave him a very weak, but very real smile. Draco inspected his eyes carefully. The same blue hue as always, but they were clear, focused, even serene.

Lucius was under a rare, but not unheard of, lucid spell.

"I was thinking we could ask the house-elves to serve us outside this morning," Lucius mentioned before looking at Narcissa. "Your mother has been really missing the outdoors."

Draco nodded, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. "I'll let them know."

He left the bedroom quickly, wanting to give his mother a few more moments alone with Lucius with a clear mind. It was what she needed the most and who knew how long this would last.

It had happened only four or five times; Lucius would wake up as if in the last few years he hadn't been slowly losing his mind inside the manor, and dragging Narcissa with him. He remembered everything still; the war, the trials, being locked up here, but he wasn't angry, paranoid, and broken about it.

Draco stopped for a moment. Everything. Lucius could remember  _everythi_ ng. If there was someone who would know about dark objects related to The Dark Lord, that was Lucius Malfoy.

And then Draco positively  _froze_  as his eyes widened with realization. A book. There had been a book, hadn't it? Ages ago, Draco must have been about ten or… No, he had definitely been to Hogwarts already. He remembered his father being all kinds of secretive and worried about a book, and he instinctively knew he shouldn't ask any questions. Then something must have happened to the book because he doesn't remember seeing or hearing about it again.

Memories and flashbacks suddenly invaded Draco's mind as if he was being attacked with them, and he had to sit down right there in the garden. There was more. He started to recall voices and conversations; The Dark Lord telling his father off about a book, Bellatrix mentioning it more than once in a spurt of rage, perhaps even other high-ranking Death Eaters too…

Draco shuddered and took a deep breath. He had worked hard to bury those memories a long time ago. He had even considered removing them from his mind entirely, but he had always been too much of a coward to actually go through with it. This was the first time he willingly tried to remember something about those years, and it still made him nauseous.

Despite reaching a definitely significant and surprising discovery, he knew it was useless for now. Even if his father did in fact remember and  _wanted_  to tell Draco, he couldn't possibly ask, could he? Surely talking about the war couldn't be good for him. Not that Draco had ever tried; he abhorred the topic probably more than anyone in that manor.

So Draco decided to forget about it for now, at least until he could think of a way of getting this information without breaking the magical spell of lucidity that had graced their family today.

Instead of telling the house-elves, Draco decided to set everything up by himself to give everyone a little more time of peace and normality, even though there was nothing normal about him arranging the food in the garden with his own two hands and wand.

A few minutes later his parents walked downstairs, bathed, changed and so uncharacteristically happy that Draco was almost uncomfortable. A while ago while doing research about mental health he had read that it was normal for the lucid periods to be marked by extremely good moods, sometimes even bordering on euphoric, so he tried not to let the weirdness of the situation affect him too much.

Draco, Lucius, and Narcissa had the first pleasant meal they had had in at least six months. Draco even managed to make a joke, of all things, and it made his parents laugh. Everything seemed to be in their favor, including the house-elves who seemed so happy for them they served trays and trays of extra treats and cakes until the table was overflowing. No one seemed to mind.

But all too soon, Draco started noticing that the spell was already tearing at the seams.

Lucius stopped talking so much, and his answers were now short and mostly incoherent. His eyes were shooting glances all over the place, as if afraid they were being watched, and his hands had begun to tremble.

"I remember the marvelous ball that the Greengrass family hosted that winter," Narcissa continued, reaching out to touch Lucius' hand. "Remember, dear? I think it was 1978."

Lucius nodded a little too hard and fast, and Narcissa smiled delightedly. Draco could see that she was trying to hold onto the last strands of sanity that Lucius had to offer, and his heart ached.

"Father," he said rather loudly for the distance between them. Lucius looked at him slightly alarmed. "I was wondering if you'd tell me a story."

His father's shoulders seemed to relax a bit. "Oh. About what?"

Draco's mind reeled for a moment and he bit his tongue several times before answering. "About Theodore Nott."

_Shit._

The air around them thickened with silence. "The two of you were friends, no?" Draco scrambled trying to fix his royal fuck-up. He wanted to ask about something pleasant like his friends, but he realized all too late that his father didn't really have any friends, and clearly Theodore Nott had been on Draco's mind too much lately. "Maybe you have some stories of when you were young?"

Draco could feel his mother staring at him, but he didn't dare turn. He waited with his heart racing for Lucius to say something, anything, and stop looking like his brain would internally combust from hearing the words Draco had foolishly said.

" _Friends_?" Lucius repeated, his tongue curling maliciously around the words as his eyes hardened beyond precedents. Draco could quite clearly see the moment Lucius' last grasp on reality evaporated. "Theodore Nott is a rat!" he all but shouted, and slammed his hands in the table, knocking several plates to the ground. " _I_ am The Dark Lord's most crucial confidant, and he knows it!"

Draco gulped and raised a hand trying to calm him down. "Yes, it's true father. I'm sorry."

Lucius rose from the table, half murmuring and half shouting insults and incoherent sentences about Nott, and The Dark Lord, and many things Draco couldn't understand. He shot a worried look at his mother but turned away quickly before he could think too much about her watering eyes.

Draco followed his father as he continued to ramble erratically through the gardens, and before long two house-elves had shown up as well, offering a small vial of the potion Draco recognized as his father's medicine. He sighed and took it before struggling to lead his father inside. As soon as the potion touched his lips he would fall asleep for several hours, so he needed to put him to bed first.

He wasn't sure how long it was until he finally managed to get Lucius under control, but when he came back, his mother was still in the garden.

"Mother, I-"

"Why would you do that?" she interrupted, tears running down her cheeks. "You know how he gets about these subjects Draco, you  _know_."

Draco felt his chest tight and he couldn't help his voice breaking, "I'm sorry, I was just trying to…"

He couldn't lie to his mother, mostly because he couldn't even lie to himself. It was obvious he had only wanted to hear about Nott for his own selfish reasons, even if he tried to play it off as a mistake.

Draco bent down and wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He tried not to cry, he really did, but hugging his mother was some sort of trigger for him and his eyes watered before he could stop it. "I needed… I

I wanted to know something and I didn't think it through. I'm  _so_  sorry."

The first time in  _months_  that his mother had a chance at some kind of normality and he had to ruin it for her. For everyone.

Narcissa patted his back and let him calm down for a moment. She knew how much Draco hated being seen like this, even by her who was probably the only person who had ever done so.

Draco pulled away after a while and he sat down opposite her, wiping his eyes and trying not to look at her. His mother didn't deserve this life, not after putting up with him and Lucius for so long.

For a long time neither said anything. Narcissa had stopped crying and she merely sat with her hands folded over her lap, looking out into the slowly decaying gardens. Draco had tried to keep them up for a while, for her sake, but it turned out he did not have a green thumb in the slightest.

"You could have asked me," Narcissa's soft voice barely reached Draco's ears.

He looked up then. "What?"

Narcissa fixed him with a stern look and Draco shivered. It'd been  _years_  since Narcissa looked at him like that. "If you wanted to know something, you could have asked me. I've been a Death Eater's wife for decades.  _He_  lived in my house. Anything your father knows… Or used to know," she said with a deep breath. "I probably know better."

Draco blinked a few times, trying to come up with a response. The truth is that he simply didn't associate his mother with these sort of things; dark objects, secrets, former Death Eaters.

Narcissa leaned in, her icy blue eyes deadly serious. "I lied to The Dark Lord, Draco. I'm not clueless, and I'm certainly not innocent."

"I never meant that you were I just…" he trailed off, devoid of explanations. "I wasn't thinking."

Narcissa straightened up and nodded once. "Alright. So what is it? What do you need to know about Theodore Nott Senior?"

Draco wasn't sure how much to reveal, because he didn't want to worry his mother, much less make her a target in case this became something dangerous. "I was wondering how… important he was. If The Dark Lord trusted him with missions or… objects."

Theo had said they had questioned his father and that's why they had come to see him in the first place. Theodore Nott had told them something obviously relevant.

Narcissa frowned lightly. "Not at all. He was in the inner-circle, yes, but never once he lead a mission or was in charge of anything too vital." She looked thoughtful for a second. "I always got the impression The Dark Lord didn't trust him entirely because of… Regulus Black."

The name was familiar to Draco, but not that much. He was obviously family on Narcissa's side but what did that have to do with Nott? "Was he a traitor?"

"On the contrary. He was Sirius' younger brother, my cousin and your second cousin. Unlike Sirius, he very much intended to follow family traditions and he was, well…" His mother reached out and touched Draco's forearm. "Marked at a very young age."

Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably, and even more so when he saw Narcissa's eyes water again.

"I'm being silly," she sniffed and wiped her eyes delicately with a finger. "It's not like I cared a great deal about Regulus, I didn't know him that well. But I saw what happened to him after getting involved so young, and I was painfully reminded years later when you turned sixteen. He only lasted two more years than that. "

Draco knew Regulus had died, but he was no idea it had to do with  _him_. "What happened to him?"

Narcissa dried her eyes and took a deep breath. It was unbelievable how fast and well she managed to compose herself. "We never knew for certain. He was very excited to be a Death Eater at first and then he probably stuck his nose where he wasn't wanted. My mother used to say he was regretting his decision, that he was weak and they decided to get rid of him. Walburga never spoke about it."

It wasn't an usual occurrence for Draco to feel close to his family, even less family that he never met or even heard much about, but in that moment he really felt a connection to young, unfairly young, Regulus.

"But wait," he said remembering what his mother had said. "What does it have to do with Nott?"

"Oh, they were good friends. Nott was a few years older, but when Regulus started attending Hogwarts, Nott took a liking to the young Slytherin. I think it's very likely that he was the one to introduce Regulus to The Dark Lord's… Ideologies.

"So when Regulus was killed under suspicious circumstances," Draco said trying to make sense of it all. "The Dark Lord stopped trusting Nott?"

His mother shrugged one shoulder. "I'm not sure how much he trusted him in the first place. But there was no denying that The Dark Lord became more cautious after Regulus' disappearance."

"Disappearance? They never found the body?"

"Well, no dear. But it was pretty obvious what had happened." Narcissa looked as though she was remembering something unpleasantly vivid. "We'd seen enough to know what they were capable of."

Draco nodded understandingly. He still found it strange that Regulus simply vanished one day and no one ever knew why or how.

Narcissa took a deep breath and got to her feet. "I'm going to lay down for a bit."

"Of course." Draco stood up as well and laced his arm with his mother's, intending to talk her to the bedroom. "Can I just ask you one more thing?"

Narcissa smiled a little. "Sure."

"Remember that book that father had before the war? When I had just started Hogwarts and it was like a big secret." Draco thought he wasn't being very clear, but then the smile disappeared from Narcissa's face and she looked serious again.

She reached up and touched his cheek, her brows twisted in worry. "Oh Draco. Be careful."

.

If Draco had thought that he was spending too much time thinking about this mystery before, now he could say he was positively obsessed.

His mother hadn't known much about the book other than it was a vile thing The Dark Lord had given Lucius for safekeeping, and eventually she told him to get rid of it because they could be in trouble for having it. She didn't know what the book was about or happened to it, but at least now Draco had more leads.

"Theo?" Draco walked through the floo at Theo's living room, stepping over the mess of clothes and empty glasses. "Merlin fuck you haven't even done a single cleaning spell since Friday?"

Theo entered, wearing only a towel around his lower half. "Why bother? It's just gonna get fucked up again next Friday."

Draco pulled out his wand and cleaned his way to the nearest armchair, and scourgefying that was well before sitting. "Don't you want to borrow a couple of house-elves?"

"No way, mate. It reminds me too much of when my father lived here." Theo sat opposite Draco and sighed as if he had been hard at work all day.

"And speaking of him…" Draco had really planned to be more sensitive with the subject because he knew Theo didn't like to talk about it, but he had given him the perfect opportunity. "I need to ask you something about him."

Theo rolled his eyes and dropped his head back dramatically. "What is it with all the questions? Are you somehow complotting with the Gryffindors to make me relive my trauma?"

Draco scoffed. "It's quite the opposite. I told you two days ago that I was trying to find out what they were up to."

"You know I don't remember anything from two days ago." Theo rubbed his eyes and then dropped his hands to the armrests with a loud slap. "Fine. What is it?"

"I know he didn't talk to you much, or at all, but by any chance does the name 'Regulus Black' ring a bell?"

Theo frowned. "Black? Shouldn't it ring a bell for you? That's your family."

"Apparently your father was good friends with him while at Hogwarts," Draco explained. "And I think he has to do with whatever the gang of Gryffindors are looking for."

Theo looked thoughtful. "Shit, just the thought of my father having a friend is surprising enough. That poor bastard Regulus must have-" Theo cut himself off his eyes staring unblinking at the empty space in front of him.

"What, what?" Draco asked eagerly.

"Regulus. I do know that name." He turned to look at Draco with big eyes. "Remember during the battle of Hogwarts when you were being a little bitch and escaped the dungeons to run after Potter?"

Draco sighed. "I was  _not_  being a little bitch. Potter had my wand."

"Sure." Theo nodded. "Totally valid reason for losing your life. Well, Blaise and I also followed after some consideration because we were afraid something would happen to you reckless idiots."

Draco had no idea they had left the dungeons to go for him. "Like what?"

Theo narrowed his eyes. "Like what happened to Crabbe."

Draco shut his mouth. He considered getting a drink to start numbing out all the memories but perhaps that would be better when he was alone.

"We split up. Blaise started looking for you upstairs while I searched the ground floor. And I remember I couldn't search the kitchens because when I approached, an army of house-elves came pouring out ready to fight." Theo shook his head in disbelief. "As if that wasn't bizarre enough, they were being led by a particularly old and ugly elf with a necklace or medallion of some kind."

Draco frowned. "Why did an elf have jewelry?"

Theo shrugged. "Why did an elf with jewelry yell 'Fight in the name of Regulus!'?"

Draco's eyes went wide and he leaned forward. "He said that?"

"I might be paraphrasing," Theo said waving a hand. "But I remember the name, because at the time I wondered who the fuck that was, but I didn't have a lot of time to ponder on it."

Things were getting a lot stranger than Draco could have predicted, but he immediately knew what he had to do next.

"I have to go," he said abruptly and got to his feet.

"Wait, I just helped you! Aren't you going to tell me what's happening?" Theo rose too, the towel almost falling to the floor.

Draco averted his eyes. "If you come with me I'll tell you everything on the way."

"Where?"

"Hogwarts."

Theo looked at Draco for a few seconds, perhaps trying to see if he was joking or not. When Draco didn't waver, his face twisted in disgust.

"Ugh, no way. You'll tell me when you get back. Good luck."

Draco smiled and clapped him on the back. "Please start wearing underpants."

"Oh don't be a prude," Theo said as Draco got on the floo. "I know you want this."

Before the flames engulfed him, Theo threw the towel away.

.

It felt as though he was reliving one of his many vivid nightmares. Walking alone through the halls that brought both joy and torment to his childhood, feeling the shame and guilt bubbling inside him and threatening to make him sick. This time though, his objective was a lot more clear. He wasn't merely there in a subconscious effort to make himself feel bad; he had something to do.

It had been almost too easy, almost suspiciously easy in Draco's opinion. You'd think an ex-Death Eater who had tried to kill the Headmaster would have a harder time getting into his former school, but Mcgonagall only needed one letter to be convinced.

Draco had wrote her the night before after leaving Theo's, asking if he could come to the school to scout for young Quidditch players, as he was planning on starting his own league soon. Although it was a perfectly valid reason and entirely believable given Draco's interests, he had been expecting rejection of some kind. He always was, no matter the source.

But Mcgonagall had agreed to let him come and had even opened the floo in her office for him, something much appreciated because Draco was in a hurry. He arrived about half an hour before a match; Ravenclaw against Gryffindor he was told, so he didn't have much time to find what he needed before heading for the pitch. He would also need to come another day to see the Slytherin and the Hufflepuff team if he wanted his lie to be believable, but that was an issue for another day.

Draco approached the familiar painting of a bowl of fruit, trying not to imagine seventeen year old Theo running around here looking for him. Worried. Scared. In the middle of a battle.

At least  _he_  had survived.

Draco tickled the pear and the portrait gave way into the kitchens. Dozens of busy elves were running around doing the cleaning, as breakfast had just finished. He did a sweep of the room, seeing if he could spot an old, perhaps now even ancient, elf wearing jewelry. He was aware that there was no guarantee the elf was still alive, it's not like he would have heard about it in the news or anything, so his whole trip here was entirely dependant on luck.

A few elves had noticed his presence and came up to him, some bowing deeply, some not, but all looking curious.

"Is master a student?" one asked with that familiar squeaky voice. "Master seems too old to be a student."

"Err, no. I'm not a student. I'm looking for an elf."

"Master was a student!" another elf said rather enthusiastically. "Master is Draco Malfoy." There was a chorus of ah's and oh's among the elves.

They remembered him?

"Yes." He nodded as politely as he could. "I need to talk to one particular elf, but I don't know his name."

"Is it Flunky? Mindy? Namie?"

All the other elves began to suggest names and Draco didn't know how to make them stop without ordering them to, but in between the madness something shiny caught his eye to his right, and he knew exactly what it was as soon as he saw it.

A very,  _very_  old elf was sitting on a chair near the right corner of the room, murmuring something to himself and playing with something hanging from his neck. Not a necklace or a medallion per se, but a locket.

"It's him," Draco interrupted the chatting elves and pointed.

The elves all but cringed. "Kreacher? Why is Master wanting to talk to Kreacher?" one asked.

"Kreacher. Brilliant. Thank you."

Draco made his way around the tiny elves surrounding him until he stood in front of Kreacher, who did not seem to notice him.

"Hello?" Draco lowered himself to try and see into his face, because he seemed nearly asleep except for the mumbling. "Kreacher?"

As if by an act of magic, Kreacher's head snapped up, and he looked up at Draco with big, albeit slightly droopy, eyes. "Master Black."

Draco's heart jumped in surprise. "I uh, I'm not… Well I guess I  _am_ a Black too."

Kreacher nodded slowly. "Yes, you belong to the most noble and ancient house of Black. I can tell. Forgive Kreacher, Master, for he is not remembering your name." Kreacher bowed deeply even in his seated state, and Draco was pretty sure he heard something crack.

"No, no, it's okay. My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy Black. I am Narcissa's son."

Kreacher straightened up again and nodded again. "Yes, yes… Master Regulus' second cousin."

Draco wanted to pump a fist in the air in victory, but instead he smiled. "Exactly."

Draco finally took a look at the locket hanging from Kreacher's wrinkled neck and he had to lean in to look closer and make sure what he was seeing was right.

Salazar Slytherin's symbol.

"Kreacher," Draco said delicately and crouched down to be eye-level with him. "I want to hear everything about Master Regulus."

.

This time Draco illuminated the studio with many floating balls of light instead of candles, and there was no ice because he uncharacteristically had decided not to pour himself a drink.

He had been too busy to think about drinking, or to even think about the usual reasons that prompted him to drink. About ten books were spread open in front of him as well as rolled out parchment and manuscripts. His day had been long and tiring, he wished he could have just left after talking to Kreacher, but he had stayed for the match and then had awkward encounters with old professors and some students. When he finally made it home he had to deal with Lucius, who was refusing to eat anything, while Narcissa remained asleep even after fourteen hours.

It was well into the night when he managed to escape to the library and spent hours searching for books. But even after selecting a few he knew the night was just beginning.

Kreacher had been a true blessing. He told Draco everything about Regulus Black's life, and at several points Draco had to hide the fact that there were tears in his eyes. He couldn't explain it, but for a change it didn't make him angry to be so emotional. Perhaps it was because Kreacher had loved Regulus more than anyone and he didn't feel bad showing appreciation for him in front of Kreacher, but nonetheless Draco now felt closer to Regulus Black than to anyone in his family, save perhaps for his mother, and he felt even more determined than before to find out what happened to him.

Kreacher told him about how he took the mark, how he wanted to prove himself, how he lent Kreacher to The Dark Lord and then… The cave. The locket. Dying there, alone.

Draco understood  _what_ had happened to him. But he needed to know  _why_.

Kreacher said that Potter was the one who finally destroyed the original locket after years and years, but he didn't really know what it was, plus his memory was getting hazy at that point; he seemed to remember most vividly the parts involving Regulus directly.

Draco felt tears pickling his eyes again.

And now he was desperately trying to dig up  _any_  information regarding objects like the original locket, with very limited success. It was much more darker than what he had imagined, and the books he had found were not explicit at all. He should have seen this coming, since his father had been ridding the mansion from any connections to the dark arts for years while Draco was growing up, even  _after_  The Dark Lord returned. If Draco didn't know him any better he'd say Lucius didn't really have any faith that The Dark Lord would win in the end.

On top of that he had gathered every recent newspaper he could find in the manor; if something significant was happening there'll be at least something relevant in the news. Only a few articles had caught his eye, so he separated them and kept them all together.

It was near sunrise, his eyes felt like there were about to pop out of his head and the last of his energy was finally draining out of him, when Draco read a word so strange, yet with a description so familiar, that he just knew it had to be it. Suddenly what he knew about the last few decades started to make sense, and the epiphany was filling him with renewed strength and vitality; he was  _so_  close to figuring it all out and he wouldn't stop now.

He rose from the seat and stepped around the desk, grabbing the newspaper clippings and a fistful of floo powder.

"Zabini Manor."

.

"What the  _fuck_!"

As expected, Blaise was not very happy with being woken up so late at night. Or so early in the morning, better said. He was in his bed while Draco stood over him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Draco tried not to sound as crazy as he looked, but it was difficult. "I just need to ask you something."

Blaise threw the cover away and sat up. "You better be bloody dying."

Draco did feel like he might be dying a little but that didn't matter now. "You said it was clear Potter and his gang were trying to cover up a scandal, right?"

Blaise looked at him incredulously. "What? Draco for fuck's sake can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"No, no, I need to know now." If anyone knew about scandals and cover ups it was Blaise. "You said The Ministry didn't want people to find out about whatever it was because it's already losing popularity, so they sent the Gryffindor war heroes so one would be able to suspect them."

Blaise sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I said. What's your point?"

Draco pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Could  _this_  be what they're trying to hide?"

Blaise grabbed the page of the German newspaper Draco had saved from breakfast that day. They had subscriptions to all major newspapers from Europe, although Draco was the only one who skimmed them one in a while. Draco lit his wand and illuminated the page.

"I can't read German," Blaise reminded him.

"Right." Draco had to suppress a roll of the eyes, because what pureblood didn't speak German? "It says the youngest son of the Silberbauer family has disappeared while he was here in England."

There was a small picture of the boy wearing expensive-looking dress robes the day of his graduation. He was blond and very pale, not unlike Draco when he was younger.

"The Silberbauers?" Blaise asked. "Shit, they basically run the International Wizard Bank."

"Exactly. And it says that neither the family nor the British government have made any comments. The source is an independent journalist organization, something we desperately need here." Blaise continued to look at the paper as though he could read it. "So?" Draco insisted, getting restless. "Do you think that's what they're hiding?"

Blaise gave back the paper. "It certainly seems possible. But why search out houses, though? Is not like we'd be hiding a kidnapped German prince in our libraries."

"Perhaps it's more than just kidnapping," Draco suggested, pulling out more newspaper clippings from the previous days, all from The Daily Prophet this time. "Three disappearances in the past two weeks, all here, all apparently unrelated, and the Ministry hasn't commented on any of them."

Blaise looked up at Draco again as if he was crazy, but then his expression changed. "I saw Weasley and the others yesterday, and I overhead some of the conversation."

"Yes!" Draco slapped the mattress next to Blaise. "I knew we were friends for a reason!"

"I thought the reason was that I'm devastatingly handsome."

"Shut it and tell me what they said."

Blaise sat up straighter. "I couldn't hear the whole thing, but Weasley said something about a public relations nightmare… And then Potter asked him if there were bodies."

Draco's heart beat with excitement. "What did Weasley say?"

"They lowered their voices then, but their expressions made me think that the answer was yes."

This  _had_ to be it. There was no way everything Draco had found out in the last couple of days wasn't all related; someone out there was making horcruxes, and according to what he had read about them in that very brief paragraph, you had to commit the most vile act of all to make them, and presumably that was… killing.

"Draco?" Blaise interrupted his thought process. "You look like you won the Quidditch cup."

Draco hadn't realized he was smiling. "I'm going to rub it in Potter's and Granger's ugly faces when I see them."

"You figured out what they're after?" Blaise looked mildly impressed, which was a lot for him. "What is it, then?"

"Come with me tomorrow to The Ministry and I'll tell you everything."

"The Ministry? Ugh, no, I've had enough of that place for a whole year. You'll tell me later." Blaise covered himself with his blanket again and laid back in the pillow. "Now get the fuck out."

Draco took back all of his newspaper clippings, still smiling. He couldn't stop even though his face hurt from the effort, it had been  _years_  since he'd felt so… Alive.

"We need to have a party. This Friday at Theo's."

"So like every other Friday, then?"

"No," Draco said as he climbed back into the fireplace. "This time we'll celebrate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking around so far! this story has been almost 45k of information and i feel like we're now JUST getting to the good part. I hope you enjoy this chapter of Draco and only Draco <3 let me know what you think!


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